


Domestic

by jewboykahl



Category: South Park
Genre: Apartment Life, COVID-19 bullshit eventually, Canon Gay Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Drabbles, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gay Boyfriends Living Together, Husbands, It just keeps getting gayer fellas, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Now with Fall/Halloween Fluff, They have a dog now too, Wedding Fluff, aged up character(s), domestic AU, marriage fluff, one shot series, poems and shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26114875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jewboykahl/pseuds/jewboykahl
Summary: A series of snapshots of apartment life for Tweek and Craig.
Relationships: Clyde Donovan/Bebe Stevens, Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak, Kenny McCormick/Leopold "Butters" Stotch
Comments: 66
Kudos: 159





	1. Chapter 1

1.1 

_ “In the Mountains of Alaska, a program known as the High-Frequency Active Auroral Research exists to locate and study the farthest distances of the atmosphere, using 180 antennas over a 33 acre property. However, some people believe this equipment has a much more sinister function: mind control.” _

“Oh, Jesus!” 

“Tweek,” Craig groaned, peeling his eyelids apart with difficulty. He lifted his arm to read the time on his Apple Watch, “You have to stop watching that shit and go to sleep, it’s damn near three in the morning,”

“Sorry, babe, I thought it was quiet enough.” Tweek whispered, reaching over to his nightstand for a pair of earbuds and plugging them into his phone.

“That wasn’t my point but...” he sighed in defeat and shut his eyes anyways, drifting off to sleep despite the periodic gasps from his boyfriend beside him.

1.2 

Eager to dig into the delicacies that had been making their entire apartment smell like baked good, Craig blew on the cookie to cool it down before taking a big, disappointing bite. 

Tweek stared at him expectantly, looking absolutely adorable in his food covered apron, flour streaked across his cheeks and nose and a headband barely doing its job in keeping his blond bangs out of his face. “So?” 

Craig took his time chewing the bit of Tweek’s first try at homemade snicker-doodles, thinking of a polite way to let him know to improve the recipe. “It’s very... Flour-y?”

“Agh, damnit, I know! I was hoping it was just me,” Tweek huffed, pulling at the strings of his apron from behind. 

Chuckling, Craig reached around and undid the knot for him before pressing a sweet kiss to his forehead, “Keep trying, honey.” 

1.3

“Dude!” Craig yelped, sending a glare at his boyfriend and he bustled into the bathroom, “I’m in here!” 

“Oh, is it number two?” Tweek asked, standing in the doorway sheepishly, scanning Craig’s position on the toilet with his pants around his ankles. 

“No, I just really like to come hang out in here.” 

“Well... That’s kind of what you do sometimes, so,” Tweek stated and continued to reach into the vanity drawer and pull out a pair of nail clippers. 

Considering what Tweek has said and decided there was truth to it, he shrugged and continued to scroll through Facebook and take care of business. 

1.4 

After a long shift at work, Tweek was relieved to come home to the smell of something delicious cooking. As he placed his car keys on the hook beside the door and removed his uniformed visor, he listened to the simultaneous sounds of a frying pan and the chopping of vegetables. 

With an excited grin stretching his lips to find what his boyfriend was whipping up for them, Tweek made his way into the kitchen to find Craig leaning against the counter with his laptop open and take-out containers on his left. Tweek somewhat deflated when he realized the cooking sound effects were emitting from Craig’s personal computer. 

“Hey, babe,” Craig greeted when he noticed the new presence. “I got Chinese.”

“Thanks, man,” Tweek replied, reaching into the plastic bag to retrieve his dinner. 

“I’m watching this dude make a Ponch Burger from Parks and Rec,” 

“Gotcha.” Tweek replied, smiling to himself as he took a bite of rice and began viewing the video beside him. 

1.5

Losing patience for the sound he had been trying to ignore for the past ten minutes, Tweek let out a groan and strode to the bathroom. He pushed his way inside, steam meeting his line of sight as Craig’s loud singing continued. 

“Will you stop singing that song?!” Tweek cried out over the sound of the water and the competing voice. He waited a second, and rolled his eyes when he was clearly being ignored, “Panic! at the Disco doing a cover of it does not make it good!” 

Even louder and drawing out the last word, Craig sang, “Into the unknown!” 

“I fucking hate my life,” Tweek grumbled, giving up and slamming the door shut.

1.6 

Grabbing a new towel and tracing his way to the restroom, Tweek was met by his wet-haired boyfriend exiting after completing his morning routine. Craig stopped him before he brushed past to take his turn, granting him a loving smile, “I left you a little message on the mirror,” 

Tweek grinned into a sweet kiss before the couple separated and he continued his journey into the bathroom. He set his towel down on the sink and peered up to view the note Craig had etched into the steam on the mirror. He squinted to barely make out the message:  _Stop leaving your clothes on the floor._

Tweek glanced behind him to find his outfit from yesterday crumpled up behind the door. He accepted the fairness of the stunt and continued to prepare for the day. 

1.7

“Did you get... milk?” 

“Shit, no, I forgot, sorry.” 

Tweek’s eyebrows remained furrowed when he scrutinized the grocery bags Craig had just set on the table. “How about bread?” 

Craig shook his head. The blond continued, “Yogurt? Butter?” 

“Tweek, none of that was on the list,” 

Befuddled, he asked, “What list?! I didn’t give you a list!” 

“This one,” Craig showed him a note on his iPhone that read:  pop tarts, Doritos, coke, animal crossing.

Tweek narrowed his eyes at his boyfriend, who was proudly holding up a copy of his new video game. “I love payday.” 

1.8

“GAH!” Tweek screamed, hiding his face in the crook of Craig’s neck.

The boy sitting beside him let out a frustrated huff, “Tweek, for the billionth time, you cannot yell like that in an apartment. We have neighbors.” 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” he whispered, overcompensating for his previous outburst. 

With a shake of the head, Craig put a comforting arm around his boyfriend and focused his attention back on the new  _IT_ film they were watching together. Craig braced himself for an incredibly predictable reaction when Bill Hader’s eyes widened in fear. 

Tweek let out piercing  _AHH_!,  earning a large hand over his mouth to muffle the noise. Craig criticized, “Dude, stop! That wasn’t even scary, he just got big!” 

“You know I don’t like clowns!” Tweek shrieked in response, moving Craig’s hand up his face to cover his eyes. 

Craig rolled his eyes, “Yes, this is my  fault. I’ll just watch this without you so we don’t get a noise complaint,” 

“No, don’t! I’ll be quiet, I swear!” 

“Fine,” the dark-haired boy agreed reluctantly before enjoying a five-minute span of silence before the next loud shout. 

“Jesus Christ!” 

“That’s it, we’re done,” Craig decided, clicking off the television. 

1.9

“Shit,” Tweek muttered under his breath, creasing his brow in concentration at the iPad on his lap. 

Craig took a visual break from  his video game to consider his boyfriend’s appearance. He feet rested against Craig’s thigh, clad in miss-matched polkadot socks, the cuffs of his borrowed sweatpants dipping past his ankles, and a loose-fitted tank top adorning his torso. His attention was captured by a game of Fruit Ninja that he was apparently losing, and Craig loved to watch his concentrated and frustrated expression. 

Setting his Switch controller on the arm of the couch, Craig shifted his legs apart and opened his arms, “Hey, come here,” 

Tweek peered up from his game, also pausing it. He grinned and accepted the invitation, moving to the other side of the couch to claim the spot between his boyfriend’s endless legs, reclining against his chest. He grinned at a chaste kiss against his forehead, ignoring Craig’s chin poking him in the eye. They returned to their independent activities as they held one another close.

1.10

Craig leaned against the sink, brushing his teeth before bed. Tweek slipped into the room behind him, glancing down to admire his boyfriend in nothing but boxers and a long-sleeved shirt. 

Before grabbing his own toothbrush, Tweek rose a hand and brought it down hard against his backside. 

“Fuck, dude! That wasn’t even my ass,” Craig yelped, covering the small of his back with his hand. 

Tweek laughed, bringing the taller man in for an apologetic hug, “Sorry! I missed!” the blond instead slid a hand down to his bottom and gave it a firm squeeze, “Better?” 

Craig smirked, “Much. But save it for the room,” 

Tweek grinned into a sweet kiss, then began hastily brushing his teeth before following him into the other room. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to everyone for reading my last lil collection! one of these is not actually set in their apartment but i don’t think anyone will be mad <3

2.1 

“Craig?” Tweek spoke in a questioning tone, wide, green eyes scanning the vacant space. 

“Yeah?” the other man replied from the other room. 

“Where the hell is the kid?!” he spouted, hopping up and peering around frantically. After all the effort he had put into meticulously baby-proofing the apartment to babysit Clyde’s one year-old son, he had still somehow managed to lose track of him during a  _ Mickey Mouse Clubhouse _ break. The weight of a thousand unsettling possibilities situated on Tweek’s shoulders. “Freddie?!” 

“He’s with me, T,” Craig assured him, which hardly soothed his panic. 

Tweek jogged into the adjacent room to find the small child on Craig’s hip, his pet guinea pig in his other hand. He flicked his eyes over to Tweek when he entered,smiling, “He wanted to see Stripe Three,”

Little Freddie Donovan was cooing, happily batting his arms toward the fluffy rodent, Craig swaying to keep him content. Tweek’s heart swelled, the sight making him vaguely uncertain of his no-kids stance for their family.

2.2

“Do you want a hug or to be left alone?” Craig questioned in a soft, even tone.

Tweek sat with his flushed face in his hands, leg vibrating under the table as he sucked in desperate breaths to try and calm himself down. A day full of annoyances and stress brought him to the brink of tears and an anxiety attack. He exclaimed, “I don’t know!” 

Generally, actually answering the question meant that Tweek wanted a calming presence by his side (when he was ignored, he could be fairly certain Tweek wanted to be at least ten feet away from anyone or anything). He strode over and claimed the chair beside him, testing his nervous boyfriend’s reaction to physical touch with a hand on his shaking thigh. When he did not jerk away, Craig rubbed it gently, whispered, “It’s okay, honey. Would you like to talk about it?” 

Tweek shook his head ‘no’, groaning quietly to himself. The dark haired man remained next to him, silent, and knowing he was not alone made it a hell of a lot easier for his partner to collect himself. 

2.3

“I look  terrible ,” Tweek whined at his reflection. The navy blue color of the rented suit-jacket completely washed him out, and was too dark to compliment the forest green of his eyes. The wine tie was slightly too large, as well as the white, button-down undershirt. 

Tweek grinned despite himself at the presence of his boyfriend’s arms encircling his waist from behind. Craig was clad in identical attire, though he pulled it off much better in his opinion, especially with his black fringe swept back into a small quiff. 

“You look hot, babe,” the taller man promised, leaning down to press his nose to Tweek’s neck. 

“No, you do!” the blond grumbled, eyes inadvertently fluttering shut at the feeling of Craig’s lips brushing against his jawline. “This isn’t a good look for me! I’d rather wear one of the bridesmaids’ dresses!” 

Craig considered the image of Tweek in a purplish-maroon gown with a chuckle before guiding his face to peer up at him with his hand. Tweek became instantly mesmerized in his hazel eyes as he always did. “Don’t worry about how you look, honey. It’s Token’s wedding, nobody is going to be paying that much attention to us.” 

“But I’ll still be up there! Ugh, it’s just so much pressure,”

His anxious ramblings were silenced by a warm pair of lips against his. He sighed deeply through his nose and squeezed his eyelids together, mechanically moving in sync with Craig’s lead. He shifted, raising a hand to cup the nape of his neck, Craig encouraging the gesture by deepening the kiss. 

After a few blissful moments had passed, Craig reluctantly withdrew from Tweek, and pecked the tip of his pointy nose, “Let’s go before I start trying to get us out of these outfits that take twenty minutes to put on.” 

2.4

A frown stretched Tweek’s lips downward as he gazed at his boyfriend beside him. “Hey,” he began in an unsure voice, “you sure you’re okay?” 

Craig held back a much louder huff than what he allowed to escape, “For the last time, T, I am fine.” 

“Okay, sorry, Jesus,” the blond scoffed in reply, crossing his arms over his chest and focusing a vexed stare at the television. 

“Oh, what?” Craig threw his hands up, “You have asked me that question twelve times just since we sat down!” 

“Well you seem like there’s something bothering you! I just want to help!”

“Don’t you think it would be easier for me to just tell you than to listen to you ask over and over?” 

Dissatisfied with the rebuttal, Tweek glued his stare ahead again and muttered something inaudibly. 

“What did you say?” Craig demanded with a cocked eyebrow. 

“I said you don’t have to be an asshead! Okay, asshead?” Tweek shot back, fighting a smile at his goofy insult. 

“Oh, yeah?” the dark haired man said before closing the gap between them on the couch and beginning to tickle Tweek’s sides. 

Thrashing around but unable to escape, Tweek cackled and yelped repeatedly before managing to get out, “Jesus, stop, I can’t take it!” 

“Say I’m not an asshead,” Craig presented his terms for surrender. 

Tweek giggled through the declaration, “You-You’re not an asshead!”

Craig laughed and dipped down to kiss Tweek’s cheek. He granted him a sincere grin, “I’m sorry, I promise that I’m okay and would tell you if anything was wrong. Do you believe me?” 

“Sure,” Tweek accepted finally, smirking, “Asshead,” 

“That’s how it’s gonna be, huh?” Craig chuckled as he returned to mercilessly tickling the man beneath him. 

2.5 

Craig removed the large bag from Tweek’s hands with a grin playing against his lips, “This better be the last one,” he warned, referring to the three other birthday presents resting on their mattress behind him. 

“It is, I swear!” Tweek promised. 

He gathered the tissue paper in his hand and removed it all at once, revealing a long frame in the silver bag. As he pulled the item out, excitement bubbled inside him, “Dude, this is sweet!” 

His boyfriend smiled widely at him as he admired a framed  _ A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out _ record, the album sleeve displayed in an underlapped style. Though he grew tired of hearing the same thirteen songs over and over again as he sometimes had when Craig controlled the music, he knew how much he loved Panic! at the Disco and supported his interests nonetheless (and he would be a hypocrite if he pretended that his overplaying of “ Bennie and the Jets” alone was not nearly equivalent to the amount that Craig listened to his favorite album). 

“Thank you,” he said, grinning fondly up at him. 

“Happy Birthday, handsome,” Tweek sighed happily, leaning down to press his lip against the newly twenty-four year-old’s. Craig set the gifted decoration aside and captured Tweek’s waist, falling back on the mattress and bringing the blond with him, making him giggle. 

“Can I have my  _ other _ birthday gift now?” Craig questioned with a seductive smirk. 

“We’ll see,” Tweek hummed in response, swooping down to connect their mouths again.

2.6

“Ow!” Tweek hissed, wincing at the damp paper towel touching the fresh cut on his lip. 

“Hold still,” Craig demanded, going back to work to stop the blood flowing from his boyfriend’s mouth. 

Fixing an annoyed stare at the ceiling, Tweek muttered while moving his mouth as little as possible, “You’re kinda snippy for someone who caused this.” 

“I’m sorry, okay?!” Craig shot back defensively, remorse not evident in his tone though he felt a great deal of it. “I didn’t know you were right there.” 

“I was directly behind you!” He shrieked in reference to the collision of Craig’s head with his mouth that caused the injury, cringing again at the pressure. 

Craig rolled his eyes, “Okay, well, I usually hear you and I didn’t, sorry. You aren’t exactly a quiet person.” 

Tweek scoffed and pushed him away, hopping down from the porcelain counter to gaze into the mirror and examine his fat upper lip for himself. He frowned, “What am I gonna do?! I have to go to work like this!” 

Craig leaned against the doorframe, arms folded over his chest, “Nobody’s going to say anything, babe, they know how clumsy you are. When do you not have some kind of injury?”

Tweek glowered over at him, “I’ll tell everyone you beat me if you don’t stop!” 

Craig merely chuckled another apology and pulled him in for a hug.

2.7

The couple shared tired yawns as they stumbled inside their apartment, the late night and few glasses of wine rendering them fatigued. Craig secured the chain over their door as Tweek headed straight into the bedroom to change out of his dress clothes. 

“I can’t believe pretty much everyone’s married,” Tweek commented as the two brushed their teeth. “well, besides us.” 

Craig nodded in agreement, “Yeah, I’m a little perplexed as to how Cartman got married before me, but life is just weird that way, I guess.” 

Tweek chuckled lightly, squeezing Craig’s arm as he slipped past him to reach the bedroom. Craig grinned knowingly to himself as he finished up his routine and joined his boyfriend. 

After changing into a comfortable shirt and new socks, Craig climbed beneath the covers, where he cuddled up beside his boyfriend and laid his head on his chest. Tweek grinned, curling up to him and running his fingers through his soft, dark hair. He lifted his hazel stare to Tweek’s handsome, sleepy face. “I love you,” he reminded him. 

Tweek grinned lazily, “I love you, too.” 

“Forever,” Craig quantified, shutting his eyes and enjoying the soothing sensation of Tweek’s touch against his scalp. 

“Mhmm,” Tweek agreed before they both fell silent and drifted off to sleep. 

2.8 

“Babe, I’m going to be late,” Craig reminded his restroom-hogging partner from behind the door. 

“Just grab some gum!” Tweek suggested. 

“First of all, that is not even remotely the same as brushing teeth and I really hope you don’t think it is,” Craig retorted, “Second, I left my phone in there, too!” 

He heard a muffled groan before Tweek pulled the door open, revealing him catering to a cut on the side of his face with toilet paper. Craig’s eyes widened at the revelation, pushing away conflicting thoughts of how cute Tweek looked with his bangs restrained with barrettes. With a quick glance at the sink, Craig easily discerned what happened when he detected drops of blood, piles of stubble, and an electric razor. He questioned, “Did you try to shave after having your coffee again?”

Tweek pouted a lip and revealed the collection on small cuts against his cheek, fist still vaguely trembling from his caffeine high. “Yes.” 

Craig let out a deep exhale before coming to his aid and inwardly accepting his ensuing tardiness. 

2.9

After an excellent dinner out of South Park (where romantic venue options were rather limited), Tweek and Craig wandered around the Denver Fair grounds, sharing cotton candy. 

“We haven’t done this in a long time,” Tweek commented, the commotion of rides, games, and happy people enjoying themselves surrounding the pair.

Craig nodded in agreement and grasped Tweek’s hand in his when they brushed against one another, praying his boyfriend would disregard the clamminess of his palms. His heart was pounding rapidly in his chest with the anticipation of what he had planned for their eighth anniversary. He absentmindedly opened and closed the jewelry box in his coat pocket as they walked. 

“You okay, hon?” Tweek asked, gazing up at his distracted boyfriend.

Craig met his stare and smiled, “I’m great. Do you want to go on the ferris wheel?” 

“Yeah, it’s my favorite!” he agreed cheerily. 

“I know,” Craig assured him, leading himtoward the giant, spinning attraction. He wetted his lips obsessively, questioning what was the root of his overwhelming nerves when he was well-aware of the outcome of the upcoming interaction. Perhaps merely because it was the most important moment of his entire life.

“As much as I hate being freezing all the time, I really love living around mountains,” Tweek spoke, breaking the somewhat silence between the two. He gazed to his right to admire the sun backing away behind the clouds as it set, casting a serene, pinkish haze across the snowy peaks and hills. “That’s why I love this ride so much. I can actually see all of what makes me like living in Colorado.”

Craig nodded, both hands remaining firmly planted in his thick jacket. “I’m kind of surprised the being high up aspect doesn’t faze you.” 

Tweek shrugged it off, although the mention did make him look down and gain a jolt of anxiety. “It just like the scenery.” 

“Me too,” he replied, peering over at Tweek as their cart was slowly propelled forward, one slot away from the peak of the ride. “But I like looking at you a lot more.”

“Lame,” the blond teased, though the compliment brought a rosy tinge to his cheeks. 

“I know. But, I really do love to look at you,” Craig assured, “you’re the cutest person alive. I want to look at you forever,” 

Tweek smiled, promising him in a syrupy voice, “I wanna look at your handsome face forever, too.” 

“Well, that’s good to know.” 

Not following, Tweek perked his head at his partner as they finally reached the highest point of the ferris wheel and halted in that position. The blond disregarded his opportunity for the best view of the beautiful, rural setting. His attention was taken by the heart swelling sight of Craig pulling a red, velvet box from his pocket. His voice wavered, full of emotions, something that was considerably rare for the man, “I feel kind of stupid for waiting eight years to finally ask you out and another nine to finally ask you this, but...” 

“Oh my god,” Tweek gasped, staring wide-eyed at the simple, gold band Craig revealed. 

“Tweek, I love you so much. You’re my whole entire world, and I never want to fall asleep or wake up without you, forever... Will you marry me?” 

All the air escaped Tweek’s lungs, leaving him nothing but a vessel of pure, untouchable joy. He didn’t notice he forgot to reply until he saw Craig’s impatient eyebrows creased together. “Yeah,” he blurted, “Yes, yes, I’ll marry you! I love you!” 

Craig let himself breath again, before Tweek captured him in a tender, ecstatic kiss. As their car was lowered, their spirits were never higher. 

2.10 

“ _ Augh _ ! Why can’t we just elope, Craig?!” Tweek groaned, letting his face slam against the opened binder on the table before him. He was frazzled from an hour of attempting to create a seating chart for his impending wedding. 

Though Craig had a similar desire after his brain was filled with all the intricacies of planning this event, he shook his head, “It’s fine, babe, we’ll figure this out.”

Tweek kept his nose pressed against the paper, “How are we supposed to make sure all of our friends aren’t anywhere near our family?! There’s too much of both and I don’t want Clyde talking to my grandma! Or Cartman! They’ll make her disown me!” 

“That’s not...” Craig stopped himself from finishing the sentence, because it was a conceivable situation. Instead he placed a hand on the back of Tweek’s head. 

“Can’t we just have Kyle plan it for us?” 

Craig let out a sardonic laugh, “I would prefer for our wedding to remain about us, not those guys. But, seriously, Tweek,”  The blond was coaxed to peer upward and find a comforting grin across his fiancé’s lips. He continued, “Even if one little detail, or one huge detail, or everything goes wrong, it doesn’t even matter that much, because we’ll still be married to each other. That’s what really matters, okay?” 

“You’re right,” Tweek grinned, and with a sigh of relief let himself be temporarily convinced before another undesirable situation plagued his mind, “What is Stan gets drunk and does his ‘Achy Breaky Heart’ routine again?!”

Craig cringed, but remained firm, “We’ll just ignore it.” 

“What if  Kenny joins?” Tweek tried again, eyebrows raised as he specified, “ _ Drunk _ Kenny,”

That image was too embarrassing for Craig to rebuttal, “Let’s elope.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> friends edition!! this one is tweek and craig with their buddies

3.1 

Craig was sat on the couch beside Freddie, who was engrossed in a YouTube video binge on his dad’s phone. He was absolutely fascinated with how well the two year-old managed to maneuver the app, easily skipping ads, swiping up to change videos, and even occasionally adjusting the volume. 

His fiancé and best friend were talking wedding in the other room, something Craig desperately needed a mental break from, i.e. the eagerness to supervise the incessant replaying of “Baby Shark”. Equally grasping at straws to entertain himself and genuinely curious of the toddler’s technological capabilities, he used his own iPhone to ring up Clyde’s phone. He pressed the device to his ear habitually and watched as his contact interrupted Freddie’s viewing pleasure. Before he tapped the red ‘End’ button, Craig caught a glimpse of what his name was listed as. 

“Clyde,” Craig spouted, annoyance laced in his tone, “Why is my contact ‘Gay Uncle Craig’?” 

Clyde peaked his head around the corner, grinning at his friend, “‘Cause you’re gay and you’re Uncle Craig!” 

“Uncle Craig is sufficient, you idiot,” he groaned, casting his gaze back to the small, brunette child beside him. “Call your dad ‘Straight Daddy’.” 

“Okay,” Freddie easily complied, remaining distracted by the animated, singing shark caricatures.

3.2 

“Hey, honey,” Craig announced on entering their apartment, where he was surprised to see his three and only  female friends lined up on the couch and his fiancé in the chair beside them. A half-eaten trey of unevenly iced cupcakes lay on their coffee table. 

“Aww,” Wendy cooed, simpering at Craig, “You still call him honey.” 

Craig flipped her off as he dipped down to greet the blond with a kiss. Bebe mimicked Wendy’s reaction, “ And you get a kiss as soon as he walks in?” 

Nichole shook her head, “Not fair. Kyle calls me Nichole almost exclusively and complains for twenty minutes before he’s like, ‘Oh, yeah, how was your day’?” 

Snorting, Bebe added, “Clyde almost exclusively greets me with ‘Yo’. Even though I’m carrying another big head ass kid of his,” she grunted, readjusting with difficultly due to her five-month-large belly. 

“How’s he doing on not finding out the gender this time?” Craig posed, picking up a chocolate cupcake that was indubitably flawlessly crafted by the baking hobbyist, Tweek. 

She rolled her eyes, “Don’t even get me started.” 

Wendy patted the blonde’s thigh comfortingly, “Hopefully I’ll know how you feel soon,” 

Tweek’s eyebrows raised, “You and Stan are trying?!” 

Wendy nodded in conformation, smiling brightly. Craig commented, “Wow, I’m going to be Gay Uncle Craig for three kids now.” 

“I didn’t ask for this!” Bebe snapped, digging into another cupcake. 

Tweek chuckled, peering up at Craig, “Bebe was craving sweets, so I baked my double chocolate.”

Craig nodded, grinning at how casually kind Tweek was to whip up two-dozen cupcakes on a whim to support their pregnant friend. He wanted to press more kisses to his lips and face, but decided to wait until the girls had left to avoid more cooing.

3.3 

Tweek’s lips maintained a nervous frown despite the soothing sounds of classical music Alexa projected. He was attempting to relax himself into sleep, but having a difficult time without the warm presence of his fiancé’s large body. Craig was out of town with their friends for his bachelor party, and it was the first time in a very long time he slept alone. 

In the dark...

With no protection...

“Shit!” Tweek exclaimed under his breath when the sudden buzzing of his cellphone on his wooden nightstand sent jolts of panic through him. A breath of relief fell from his lips when he realized it was not a demonic presence, and reached across the mattress to discover the source of the noise. When he saw the old, fourth-grade yearbook picture of Craig that he had assigned to his contact, he answered and put the device on speaker, “Hello?” 

“Hey, Tweek,” Craig spoke, his usually flat voice sounding somewhat elevated. “Where are you?” 

Tweek propped his head up with his elbow, “Uh, I’m home, love,” 

“Well, are you coming?” 

“No? It’s your bachelor party, mine is next weekend.” 

“Oh... Well, that sucks. I want to hold you when we go to sleep.” 

Though Craig was clearly in some sort of rare form, this confession brought a smile to his lips. “I wanna hold you, too.” 

“I thought you would come. I miss your squishly little tummy. Also, I just put a Dorito and a pretzel in my mouth at the same time, and it tasted so good, do you think you could make something like that?” 

Tweek had to laugh at the uncharacteristically rapid pace of Craig’s words, “Are you drunk?”

“No, I didn’t like the drinks. So, are you on your way?” 

“No, Craig, it’s your party,” Tweek repeated, creasing his eyebrows and attempting to decipher the situation. 

“Oh, that sucks. I miss you. You have soft lil lips,” Craig managed to get out before an exaggerated gasp, “Fuck, Kenny, where the hell did you come from?!” 

“Dude, I’ve been right behind you for, like, ten minutes,” Came a muffled response from Kenny, “Who are you talking to?” 

“My fucking baby,” 

“Kenny, what’s wrong with my fiancé?” Tweek raised his voice, not entirely excepting his fellow blond to hear him. 

“Tweek, keep it down,” Craig requested from the other line, “Did you just see Kenny come out of nowhere?!”

Tweek heard some shuffling, and then a coherent voice address him directly, “Hey, coffee boy, it’s the unfortunately only sober person at this party. I gave Craig an edible and I definitely prefer this attitude, even though you gotta repeat everything to him thrice,”

“You of all people are sober?” Tweek questioned, trying to suppress his nervousness that Craig being high without him present caused him. 

He heard a sigh from Kenny, “Yeah, I had to sacrifice myself ‘cause we were all trying to get Kyle drunk and he only trusts me to be the DD. Even though we’re just at the cabin, he thinks we need one. Anyways, I have a ton of videos to show you.” 

With a laugh, Tweek let himself fall back against the pillow, “Is Craig alright?” 

“Yeah, he’s staring at his hands. Looks like he might fall asleep. I’ll let ya say good night and try to drag him to bed. Love you!” 

“Love you too,” Tweek chuckled, though he was pretty sure Kenny was being facetious. 

“Tweek!” Craig’s excited voice sounded again. “I love you. I miss your lil mouth and lil hands.” 

“I love you, Craig. Good night, make good choices!” 

“Wait, you aren’t coming?—“ 

Tweek chuckled and disconnected the call before he fell down that rabbit hole, and drifted off to sleep somewhat easier knowing Craig was thinking about him also. 

3.4

“I’m going to kill you,” Craig warned, arms crossed and back pressed against the fridge as Kenny and Tweek sat side by side, flipping through embarrassing videos of himself from his bachelor party. 

“I understand, just wait,” Kenny wheezed, flipping to another video. 

“What the fuck,” Tweek chuckled when he saw Craig and Clyde depicted on all fours, side by side. 

He laughed even harder when he saw a messy fro-ed, droopy eyed Kyle waving around a kitchen towel and yelling, “On your mark, get set, ‘nd GO!” 

With that the two men who were much too large to be having a crawling race took off, though it was not long before they both collapsed in fits of giggling. Tweek held his stomach, trying to catch his breath. 

Craig rolled his eyes, “Dude, you act like there’s no embarrassing videos of you from the forty-seven thousand times you have been drunk or high.” 

Kenny glanced over his shoulder, “That’s why it isn’t even funny to see me drunk anymore. Plus, nothing embarrasses me.”

Reluctantly conceding to the point, Craig shrugged, “At least I wasn’t as bad as Kyle.”

Tweek grinned at his friend, “Show me how bad Kyle was.” 

“I got you,” Kenny obliged, Craig joined them to enjoy the content.

3.5 

“Well, uh, how do you do it?” Butters asked, seemingly on edge. 

Craig was not entirely used to their small, blond friend coming to him for advice, but he was assured he needed the perspective of someone who actually liked men. They sat on the couch of his and Tweek’s apartment,  _ Storage Wars _ playing in the background. 

“That’s sort of hard to say, man. It really depends on what you think is right for you two.” Craig tried, though helping people that weren’t Tweek was not a strong suite of his—especially others’ romantic endeavors. 

His friend sighed, rubbing his knuckles together nervously, “I want to do it because he made all the other first moves and I just wanna show him how much I love him. Y’know? But, he’s also real goofy and doesn’t take anything seriously, I don’t know want him to think it’s stupid. What did you say to Tweek?”

“Kenny may be a dumbass, but takes you seriously,” Craig assured before addressing the second point, “And, I just told him I wanted to be with him  forever and I love him.” 

“That’s it?”

Craig shrugged, “That’s all I needed to say. I love him, I want to be with him forever, I want him to marry me. Simple,” 

Butters chuckled, “I sure wish it felt that simple.” 

Smiling to himself, Craig could not think of another adjective to describe how he felt about Tweek. Loving him was breathing, eating, sleeping, walking; it was a part of his body, a natural and uncontrollable feature. 

He told Butters, “Just remember that you know Kenny better than anyone, and he loves you. Do what feels right. And, you can stay here and wallow as long as you need.” 

Butters laughed, slumping down, “Thanks, Craig. You’re a real good friend.” 

“Don’t tell anybody,” He joked as they sat together, thoughts of how much they loved their blond partners circling their heads.

3.6

Frustration flared inside of Tweek, his head threatening to burst under the pressure. He had been slaving away for hours attempting to create homemade candies for their wedding favors, and due to his generally unsteady hand, the chocolate delicacies were not visually turning out how he imagined—although they were delicious. 

“Fuck, man!” Tweek shouted, throwing down his makeshift piping tool for icing (a sandwich bag cut at the ends). His fingers found the ends of his messy blond waves and began to pull. 

“Tweek, babe,” Craig began, ushering to his side from his former position against the table, enjoying stolen samples of his fiancé’s candy with Token. “It’s going to be okay?” 

Enduring a few moments of Craig guiding Tweek through his breathing exercises, Token suggested, “Why don’t we just get a bag of chocolates from the store?” 

“Because I wanted it to be special and classy!” Tweek shouted, impatience for the situation immediately resurfacing despite Craig’s coaxing. “I just don’t understand why they all look so different!” 

Putting his hands up in mock submission, Token muttered, “I think they look fine, but, whatever.” 

Craig cupped his soon-to-be husbands flushed face in his hands, pinning him with his soothing hazel stare and a sweet smile, “Remember what I said? No matter what, this wedding is going to be amazing. It’s me and you.”

“I know,” he sighed, allowing the supportive presence of his fiancé soothe his tension. 

“How about you bake and we decorate, Tweek?” Token suggested, gingerly inserting himself into the situation again. 

“Yeah, okay, that could work,” Tweek agreed, turning to bustle back to work. 

Craig mouthed a ‘Thank you’ to his friend, holding up prayer hands. With a chuckle, they went to work helping Tweek before he exploded. 

3.7 

“Dude, f-f-fuck you!” Jimmy grumbled, bumping into Clyde in retaliation for throwing a banana in front of his pixilated racing motorcycle. 

With a cackle, Clyde scooted away from his fellow brunette and continued to focus his attention on Mario Cart. Craig was, as per usual, far ahead of the rest of the boys with Toad. The real competition between Token, Clyde, and Jimmy for second place. 

Token shook his controller, grunted, “Stop doing the squid thing!” 

“It was a CPU,” Craig informed. 

“And?” He groaned.

In the midst of Round 2, Tweek entered the apartment with two bagged tuxes in his arms. He was irritated to find his friends and fiancé engaging in a video race when they were given specific tasks to prepare for the wedding. He tossed his car keys on the coffee table and sent Craig a stern stare, “Did you put ribbons on the favor bags?” 

“Huh?” Craig asked, lifting his gaze for only a moment to address the speaker. 

“I asked you guys to put ribbons on party favors!” Tweek exclaimed.

Craig promised, “Okay, honey, we’ll do it after this round.”

With a dramatic huff, Tweek stalked to their bedroom to tuck their wedding attire into the closet. He felt furious with Craig, and simultaneously frustrated with himself for becoming so easily upset during this time of elevated stress. 

Shortly after he slammed the door shut to their bedroom, Craig entered to find him straightening their tuxes, after the realization that he would be in potential trouble if he did not deescalate the situation. “Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t do the bags yet, I promise I will. Why don’t you take a nap or something?”

“How about I chug an entire pot of coffee so I can actually get all the things done that need to be done! Our wedding is in two days!” 

With a frown, Craig traced over to the jittery blond, “It’s going to be alright, Tweek. Remember the plan? We’re going to finish seating cards tonight, when we get the venue tomorrow we’ll take turns setting up the decorations—“

“There’s not going to be any time!” Tweek cut him off with a shriek. “There’s so many bags and cards and flowers and decorations!” 

“Well, if we don’t have time, what are we going to do?!” Craig pressed, changing his tune when he realized logic was not going to be a helping hand in this discussion. 

“What do you mean?! We’re not going to have anything ready! People are going to come in and wonder why there aren’t any fucking ribbons on our favor bags!” 

Craig was reaching, but this was important, “Without ribbons your homemade candy might fall out! I can see why that’s important to you now!”

“And if we don’t have time to put all the centerpieces right it will bother me! And Kyle! He’ll totally have something to say about it!” 

“Well, what are you going to do about it?!” 

Tweek paused, chest heaving, his brain doing it best to come up with a solution, “I guess I can ask Bebe to help me after work... I know our moms will be there to help, too, so maybe we can just split up and spend more time on certain things...” 

Craig grinned, pulling Tweek into a comforting hug. The shorter man sighed, wrapping his arms around Craig’s middle. “I’m sorry, I just really want everything to be perfect and I’m so worried something is going to distract me from having a good time and getting married to you,” 

“Worrying about your future anxiety is pretty meta, babe.” Craig commented, coaxing a chuckle from his fiancé. Their lips met in a lingering, loving kiss. Slowly, they drew away, keeping one another close as Craig whispered, “I cannot wait to marry you.” 

“I can’t wait to marry—“

“Come on, Tucker, we aren’t done with you!” Came Clyde’s voice from the other side of the door. 

His stare fell to Tweek’s face for confirmation. With an eye roll, the blond said, “Finish the game.” 

“Thanks honey,” Craig grinned before kissing his head and heading back to continue his reign of dominance.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wedding boys 🥺 im sorry for the third panic! at the disco reference but i’m also not <3

4.1 

For the forth time in the span of what felt like two minutes, Tweek was forced to nag his procrastinating partner, “We have to leave in twenty minutes, man! Get dressed!” 

Craig exhaled deeply, “Do we really have to have a rehearsal? There are only going to be four people up there with us,” 

“You really don’t think Clyde and your sister need further instruction?” Tweek jutted his head to the side to emphasize an incredulous glare.

The underdressed man was sprawled out along the couch, avoiding changing into the business casual style outfit Tweek had lain out for him. While his fiancé’s natural reaction to stress involved varying levels of panic, rage, and sorrow, Craig’s anxiety presented itself in the form of immobility and negligence of responsibility. He raked fingers through his freshly cut hair, staring up at the ceiling and continuing fo debate whether or not he’d force himself upright. 

His choice seemed to become clearer when Tweek was upon him, taking tight hold of his arms and attempting to drag him to their bedroom. Giving a grunt when Craig remained unmoving, Tweek readjusted and continued trying. Amused, Craig granted him a one-eyed look, “Dude, you’re so weak,” 

“It’s not my fault you’re a tree!” Tweek spouted, letting go with a huff. “Why are you doing this?!” 

Craig finally thrust himself into a sitting position and bit a lip, “I think I’m just getting a little nervous the closer we get to the wedding.” 

Tweek granted him an understanding simper. He took strides to stand before him and parted his black hair into place, “I know, Craig. But just remember what you’ve been saying! Even if everything goes wrong, it’s me and you. It’s about us and how perfect we are for each other, and how we’re going to spend the rest of our lives making each other happy.” 

With a reassured smile, Craig stood, trapping Tweek in a warm hug, “I’m going to remember what you just said and I will make fun of you if your vows are similar.” 

“Shut up,” the blond grumbled into a kiss, then warned again, “Now go get dressed before  I start freaking out!” 

4.2 

After an extremely productive day of organizing and decorating, Tweek finally let himself breathe easy as their small “bridal” party gathered at the wedding venue to rehearse their ceremony. It took almost no time to find a same-sex friendly venue near by, but considerable effort to locate an officiant that did not require consoling, for them to also be of the Christian faith, or a large sum of money. They rented out a banquet hall situated by a lake. 

The interior of the structure was decorated like an old-fashioned mansion: the ceiling was comprised of intricate regal tiles, bronze angel sconces, double winding staircases that lead to a platform for extra setting and dressing rooms, a dark wooden dance platform, and an incredible twenty-light chandelier. 

The couple stood before the string light and white rose clad gazebo directly adjacent to the hall and backed to a small lake. Despite the mid-summer time of year, a Colorado chill combined nicely with the draft from the body of water to make the rehearsal a vaguely cold endeavor. Tweek and Craig exchanged exasperated expressions after the fifth minute of Clyde blubbering through his reading. 

“Why did you let this fucking moron read instead of Token?” Craig’s younger sister, Ruby, expressed what was admittedly on everyone’s mind. 

Craig rolled his eyes, “I did not even ask him to do a reading. He Googled same-sex friendly marriage readings, picked one, and asked me if he could do it.” 

“To which you replied ‘Yes’, why?” Ruby pressed. 

“Wrap it up, babe, for the love of God,” Bebe huffed, resting on a decorative lawn chair. She was quite over her husband’s emotional sensitivity after having tried on her maternity dress for the wedding, and enduring his crying about how beautiful she looked for a good ten minutes (though she secretly loved it). 

“You know what,” Clyde choked, lowering the paper with his chosen reading and sending glossy-eyed stares to the congregation of couple’s closest friends and immediate families. “These are my best friends in the whole world and they’re getting married to each other! I didn’t even think this would happen for either one of them, so  _excuse_ me for being very happy for them!”

“Dude!” Tweek huffed. 

Shaking his head in disbelief, Token reached his free hand to snatch the paper from Clyde, Freddie resting on his opposite side, “Go sit down, you idiot.” 

As Clyde stormed off the gazebo to join his wife, Token set the child down and allowed him to run to his parents as an employee from the venue continued with his spiel, vaguely amused, “Alright, then, so has the couple decided who will walk down the isle?” 

“We’re going to come down together,” Tweek informed him, earning a grin from his fiancé. 

“Excellent, so we’ll do a quick run through the whole thing and you guys can all be on your way!”

Tweek ignored his fiancé’s grumbles about “knowing how to walk” as he was absolutely in favor of rehearsing as many times as possible (even if Bebe was glaring daggers at him). As they meandered back into a starting position, Tweek gazed around at his surroundings and let it all sink i n; he would be married to his best friend the following day, when often times growing up, he was plagued by the crushing possibility of nobody being patient enough to get to know and love him in the way Craig had. He was ecstatic to display that in front of all the close friends and family that also cared for him. 

4.3 

The day-away-from-being-married couple staggered into their apartment, drunk from an evening about their love and their shared kisses at every stop light on the way home. After securing the door shut, Tweek let out a quick gasp of surprise as he was gently pressed up against it. He relaxed into a passionate kiss from his fiancé, his hands relaxing on Craig’s hips while his cupped his flushed cheeks. 

Tweek being the anxious (but lovable) wreck he was, Craig tried not to take him by surprise, even if a swell of desire did befall him. In that moment, however, it was out of his control. He kissed passed the small squeak that came after Tweek’s back hit the door, imbedding his fingers into the unkempt curls that swooped to the nape of his neck. His lips were sweet with the ice cream they had just shared and soft like they always were. 

Tweek felt his heart continue to race when Craig drew away and traced kisses along his jawline, tenderly, as if he was painting a picture. His eyes fluttered between opened and shut, peaking his thumbs beneath Craig’s dress shirt that he had adamantly refused to tuck in. His warm, deep tan skin electrified his fingertips. 

“What was that for?” the blond asked, cringing at himself when it was more of a giggle than a question.

Craig flicked his hungry, hazel eyes to Tweek’s, “Me kissing you?” Tweek nodded in confirmation. A smile played across Craig’s lips at he lifted a hand from where they slid to Tweek’s shoulders to flip a stray blond curl from his eyes. “For everything,” 

“What’s everything?” 

A shared deep gaze caused even more emotions to bubble within Craig’s chest. Everything about Tweek was unbelievable in that moment: those unresting, uniquely beautiful green eyes; his small, pointy nose splayed with the palest, smallest freckles he’d ever seen; his parted pink lips, puffy from the incessant worrying with his teeth they endured; a body that was somehow simultaneously adorable and sexy, with toned upper arms that led down to a soft belly and chubby thighs. Each imperfection was even more quintessentially  Tweek . Craig could not believe his luck. 

“You know,” Craig forced himself to start, taking notice to the unnecessarily lengthy period of time he allotted himself to stare at his partner, “You. Youlooking fucking perfect all night, you ranting about Rosewell or how people don’t drive correctly, you sneezing on me because your sneezes are too sudden for you to control and I don’t care because you have the cutest sneeze, you telling me ‘I don’t know, maybe’ when I asked you out on a date and we’ve barely spent a day apart since, you marrying me, you—“ 

Tweek cut of his ramblings by taking his turn to hold Craig cheeks in his hands and force their lips to meet. He kissed him hard, with a fever that only he could earn. Tweek feared he may tear up at his sweet words (or at how stressful tomorrow was going to be), but instead they kissed and pawed at one another and hummed against one another until their lips felt tired and chapped. 

With a heaving chest, Craig peeled his eyelids apart to find a familiar moonlight gaze already pinned against him. He grinned, “You’re everything.” 

4.4

“I can’t believe you’re walking down the isle together,” Clyde commented, clutching his son’s hand and instinctually flicking his wrist to draw him back into line (and keep him from running directly into the large body of water). “I always kinda imagined Tweek walking down to us standing up there with Craig.” 

The weather held up immaculately; the sun was partially impeded by fluffy cumulus clouds, casting a gentle glare across the lake beside the venue. The breeze was just enough to keep the groomsmen in their thick, white dress shirts and heather grey vests (and their consistently overheated pregnant friend) comfortable without making Ruby chilly in her emerald, halter v-neck dress. Bebe’s was the same color, but with slit short sleeves and a flowing skirt to accommodate for the child growing inside of her. The groomsmaids already received a stamp of approval for their aesthetics from Kenny, who happened to arrive just as Ruby helped Bebe to her car to retrieve some Tylenol and greeted them with, “Goddamn, you two look smokin’ hot. How can Tweek and Craig be gay around such bombshells?”

To which he earned a noncommittal  Ewe , from Bebe, and a middle finger from Ruby, who had only thought to rebuttal with  _Dude, Craig’s my fucking brother_ , when it was too late and Kenny was being fake scolded by his partner, Butters, as they ambled to their seats. 

Tweek shot Clyde a disapproving glare, “Why am I the one who walks down the isle?! Do you think I’m”—he threw his arms up and curled his fingers into air quotes—“the girl of the relationship?”

“No! That’s not what I—“ 

“Why are you fantasizing about our wedding?” Craig interjected. 

With a huff, Clyde extrapolated, “First of all, fuck off Craig. Second of all, I don’t think you’re a girl, Tweek, I’m not a homophobe! I just always thought it would be so satisfying to watch Tin-man over here publicly tear up when he saw his cute ‘lil husband coming towards him.” 

Token shrugged, running his fingers along his textured green tie, “Honestly, it’d be sort of adorable.” 

Craig scoffed inaudibly, “Sorry you gaywards don’t get to see me cry on my wedding day.” 

Tweek chuckled, reaching for his almost-husband’s hand and entwining their fingers. It was only a short ten minutes before the ceremony was set to begin, and the small group waited behind the building section of the venue. Aside from a restless Freddie who was being called to the lake like Moana, it had been Tweek’s favorite portion of the day—hanging out with his favorite people, and finally being able to be in Craig’s presence after a day or running around and over-preparing every detail of the event. 

“I’m glad you guys did it this way, and the first look thing. Now all we have to do is take family pictures after the ceremony instead of absolutely all of them before anyone is allowed to eat,” Ruby commented, everyone immediately fixing an annoyed glare on Token. 

He grunted, “How many times am I gonna have to apologize for my photographer taking an hour and a half?! I didn’t know she was sixty-nine damn years old, okay? She used an old picture of herself on her profile and she seemed normal!” 

“Dude, even if it was a picture from five years ago, it should have raised an eyebrow,” Clyde snorted. 

“Oh, fuck off, you guys took just as long!” 

Bebe clarified, “It wasn’t an hour and a half, but it certainly was because he was crying in the first round of pictures.” 

“I’m a passionate guy, and I had just gotten married to the most beautiful woman in the world,” Clyde reasoned, touching his wife’s cheek tenderly. “Plus, the way your titties looked in that dress  alone could make a guy cry.” 

“Clyde, Freddie can hear you!” 

“Oh, come on, he knows all about your boobs, don’t ya bud?” 

The miniature, carbon copy of Clyde squinted up at his father and pointed a drool-covered finger to the lake, “Want swim,” 

“No, we are not going to swim,” 

“We’re also not going to talk about boobs anymore today,” Craig warned. “This is a gay event, show some respect.” 

With a glance at his watch, Tweek saw that it was 2:58pm. He let out a breathy sigh, grinned up at Craig, who was already smiling at him as if he were made of gold. He flushed before he could even get to the part where he was in front of fifty people, talking and kissing him. He whispered, “You ready?”

Craig nodded, eyes glinting with pride and joy. “Let’s go be gay for South Park.” 

With a giggle, Tweek led the way to where the party would begin, absentmindedly patting the pocket of his grey tuxedo that matched Craig’s (aside from Tweek’s green bow-tie versus Craig‘s color-coordinated tie and a white rose in his lapel. The only thing Craig absolutely insisted on was the green color, as Tweek eventually learned to be because he loved the way it deepened his forest eyes). The first jolt of anxiety was short—he assured himself he merely did not feel the paper in his pocket. Upon further examination, and stopping in his tracks as the rest of his group continued ahead, he found no traces of his the vows that took him three weeks to perfect and type up because he knew he would not be able to read his own hand-writing. 

“Oh  god ,” Tweek sputtered under his breath, his heart stopping.

4.5

_ We’ve waited so damn long, we’re sick and tired _

_ I won’t leave any doubt or stone unturned  _

It took only one glance to see that Tweek had entered a shocked state of panic. As Token escorted his sister down the isle, and Bebe gave her son as crystal clear instructions as possible for following behind his mom and dad, Craig’s stomach twisted with concern.

_ I’ve got a collar full of chemistry from your company _

_ So maybe tonight I’ll be the libertine  _

Tweek unwittingly caused his fiancé more concern when his  Are you okay?  went unnoticed, but he was performing mental gymnastics over his usually crippling anxiety, doing the most work he had ever done to find his center. He was letting Brendon Urie’s familiar voice filter through his brain, reminding him of when Craig first played him the song, before they were in an established relationship, and told him that it reminded him of Tweek. 

_ Show me your love, your love  _

_ Give me more but it’s not enough _

The memory was so vivid; the pair were driving around after school in Craig’s old Honda Accord, immersing themselves in the new-ish album from Craig’s favorite band that Tweek had not heard. When the upbeat, electronic tempo of “Collar Full” emitted smoothly from the speakers, Craig nodded happily, “This one’s my favorite,”

_Show me your love, your love_

_Before the world catches up_

Tweek had paused to listen to the song for a moment before asking him why he liked it. When he glanced at the driver, his toasted brown cheeks were tinted red. He shrugged, almost whispering, “It reminds me of you.” Tweek’s heart had swelled at this, recalling a particular breath hitch when the chorus came along. 

_Cause there’s always time for second guesses, I don’t wanna know_

_If you’re gonna be the death of me, that’s how I wanna go_

After a whiney flower boy performance from Freddie, who disregarded his mission, wandered to Jimmy to beg for rescue, the two were set to walk down the isle, hand and hand. Craig’s eyebrow was quirked, searching Tweek’s worry-stricken face for reassurance. In response to a squeeze, Tweek essentially snapped out of a trance, flicking his eyes to his fiancé’s face. He smiled, sighed, “Let’s go.” 

4.6 

Overwhelmed with the eyes staring, the emotional atmosphere, and distracted by the faint sounds of Elmo singing from Jimmy’s phone in the front row, Craig essentially blacked out until he heard the officiate utter, “And now, the couple has prepared their own vows and will share them before you at this time,” 

Craig’s wide eyes darted between the grinning officiate and the glossy-eyed Tweek. He left one hand clutching Tweek’s as the other reached into the front pocket of his pants, removing a folded piece of notebook paper. Unraveling it, he cleared his throat. 

“Tweek,” he began, wetting his lips. “Uh... Everyone knows communication is my kryptonite. It took me a long time and a lot of over-thinking to figure out what I want to say today. But when I finally figured it out, it was because I just thought about you. Just you, and how you make me  so  happy. How everything is easy when we’re together. Everything makes sense. It’s been years, and every day I feel a little closer to you, and I love you even more. We’re the best team ever, and I think we can take on anything that comes our way. You make me strong, confident, and so proud. Thank you for loving me unconditionally, too, even if I’m boring and don’t always know the right thing to say. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, knowing it’ll be full of love, patience, coffee, boring documentaries, and no judgements. I love you.” 

The vows were so informal, so lame, but so undeniably, wonderfully  Craig . Tweek bit a lip, attempting to maintain his composure despite the mix of emotions threatening to overflow from within him. His stomach churned with the knowledge that it was his turn. He severely wished he did not have to spout off the cuff declarations of love, but a disappointing memory reminded him he left his pre-written vows on his dresser. 

Tweek inhaled a deep breath before beginning, and Craig was confused to find Tweek’s hands empty of a script. “Craig,” his voice wavered slightly, which was far preferable to the panicked squeak he thought may emit. He continued, hyperaware of his speech’s speed, but relaxing into the topic of how much he loved the man standing before him, “You have always been there for me in so many ways. Whether it was helping me home when I broke my arms at the park, or helping me get through science homework, or teaching me how to play video games, or calming me down, I know that I can always count on you. You shower me with love and kindness on a daily basis, and though I’m unsure of almost everything, I never doubt that you care for me. I’ve known you my whole life, and I guess I always knew you were the one in small ways. Even though you’re boring, I would not want anyone else to spend my entire life with. You... You make me believe in myself in a way that no one has before, and I just want to fix whatever hurts you, give you whatever you need, cheer you on, pick you up when you’re down, just, love you. I promise to always be there for you in all the ways you are for me; as my partner, my best friend, my biggest supporter, my other half. Forever,” Tweek smiled, letting out a sigh of relief when he made it through with minimal stutters, “I love you.” 

Craig was beaming, a soul-cleansing grin that Tweek had rarely seen cross his generally disinterested face. It took everything in them to wait for the official words to finally share their first kiss as a married couple. 

4.7

“See,” Craig’s whisper fell like silk against Tweek’s ear, “This isn’t too much pressure.” 

“Shut up,” he retorted, chin resting on his husband’s shoulder. They swayed and stepped in time to Elton John’s “Your Song”, which was Tweek’s feeble attempt to add his preferred music to the wedding playlist almost entirely comprised by Craig. He conceded, as most of what Tweek listened to was classical and therefore not dancing music. At least it calmed him down. 

Craig’s main goal in providing a comprehensive list of pre-approved songs was to limit their friend’s embracing antics. He truly hoped the most mortifying aspect of the event would be Tweek’s and his parents stretching a massive pride flag on display and whooping after the couple shared their kiss. 

Their bodies were both radiating warmth from a combination of nerves and the increased temperature of the indoor portion of the venue, but they remained as close as physics would allow, contently listening to the soft conversations of their friends and family and the love song playing over the speaker system. Heart full, Tweek drew away to consider his husband’s happy, handsome face. He pushed his fingers through Craig’s dark, thick fringe that was winning the fight against the hair paste to sweep across his forehead. He began softly singing along in a voice only Craig could hear. 

“Sing louder,” Craig urged, half-joking. 

Tweek shook his head, pale cheeks instantly adopting a rosy tinge. “For the second time, shut up.” 

Craig chuckled into a chaste but deep kiss, allowing himself to be satisfied with being the sole listener to Tweek’s sweet singing voice. 

4.8 

“This ones for you, ya gay assholes,” a familiar voice slurred over the microphone with cringe-worthy feedback, immediately grasping Tweek and Craig’s attention. Kenny and Stan were leaning against one another for support beside the DJ’s booth, absolutely inebriated. 

“Yeah, tha’s right!” Stan added stupidly, barely audible until he leaned into the microphone. “I hear you don’ like our dancing, but we’re damn good dancers, aren’ we, Ken?!” 

“Tha’s right!” Kenny retorted, consuming Craig’s will to live when he heard Billy Ray Cyrus’s famous guitar riff blare through the speakers. 

“I told you!” Tweek spouted, wincing in distaste as the friends attempted to do a choreographed dance on the otherwise empty dance floor. 

“Well, I told you not to invite Stan and those guys, so this is on you.” Craig refuted as equal amounts of shame overcame him. 

“Dude, don’t lob me in with those idiots,” Kyle scolded from the table adjacent to the couple. He crossed his arms over his chest, “And be glad you’re not obligated to take care of them after all this is over.” 

“They have wives,” Craig argued. 

“Hey!” Butters protested, though his eyes widened at something from behind them. 

“C’mon, hotties,” Kenny’s clammy hands were grasping their wrists before either could defend themselves. 

“ Gah ! Why is he so strong?!” Tweek squawked. 

Craig seethed, “Stop fucking touching me, McCormick,”

“Oh, hey! It’s the married guys!” Stan exclaimed, looking up from the previous laser-focus on his clumsy footwork. 

“Let loose, you guys!” Kenny let go of his grasp on Tweek, using his free hand to grab Craig’s forearms and coaxing him to move around, “Issa party!” 

With half-hooded eyes, lips formed in an unamused line, Craig began to sway back and forth with Kenny’s drunk lead. Inspired and laughing at the sight of their obliterated blond friend getting him to dance to the cheesy country song, he allowed himself to be pulled into Stan’s embrace, also stepping in time to “Achy Breaky Heart”. 

4.9

“Stop. Snoring.” Craig muttered sleepily. 

Poor congested Tweek earned much less sympathy for falling ill after his husband was forced to endure the loud, nasally, crackling sound it caused his nose to make. The blond’s eyes fluttered opened, a confused hum serving as a reply. The two drifted back to sleep after a few moments of silence, though Craig was swiftly stirred again when a loud snore erupted from the sick blond.

Craig shot straight up, raising his voice, “Oh my god, wake up.” 

Tweek was awoken again by a firm shake. “Mm, what?” 

“Stop snoring before I smother you,” Craig warned, flopping back down onto the mattress. 

Miserably, Tweek sniffled and turned to look at him, “I’m sorry, I can’t help it.” 

A pang of guilt went through Craig, making him pout a lip and inch closer. He pressed a kiss to his red nose and pulled him closer. “I hope you feel better, baby.”

“Thanks asshole,” Tweek sighed, wriggling into his comfort. 

4.10 

“I mean... It’s a huge step,” Tweek puffed a sigh. “It’s a huge, expensive commitment.” 

“Yeah,” Craig agreed, staring at an adoption website on his open laptop. “It’s really big... but, I think we’re ready. I mean, I’ve been wanting this for a long time.” 

“We’re gonna have to rearrange our schedule completely... I mean, especially at first, it’s gonna be constant care and attention. We won’t be able to sleep, we’ll have to be home all the time... And what if they don’t like me?!” 

Craig chuckled, placing a comforting hand on his thigh, “Babe, come on, they’re going to love you. You’ll get to hold it, teach it how to walk, and even dress it up in those cute little outfits.” 

Tweek grinned at the thought, sliding his hand overtop of Craig’s. He quirked an eyebrow at him, “You sure you’re ready for this?” 

“I’m ready for anything with you,” Craig promised.

They shared a loving kiss before returning their attention to the website, several pictures of rescue puppies arranged on the screen with short biographies beside the pictures. Craig began, “What breed should we look for?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey lovey readers, here is some pure sugar fluff to make up for the wreckage i caused with everybody loves somebody (and just cause if you didnt read it)!  
> i would also like to say that i am looking for prompts/suggestions for these domestic drabbles! so if theres any requests you have for a tweek and craig Domestic please let me know in the comments!! (-:

5.1 

Getting caught up on dishes was something Tweek absolutely abhorred. It was a mind-numbing task, and he hated the way the overexposure to water made the pads of his fingers wrinkly and pallor. He did his best to do the washing systematically through the week, but every now and again he and Craig would end up with no clean coffee mugs, two clean plates, and no forks. 

If Craig was there, though, he loved it. His husband knew how much Tweek hated to clear the sink, so he would wash, Tweek would dry. Craig had also made a Spotify playlist specifically entitled “doin’ dishes” to make it as an enjoyable as one possibly could make cleaning, each song Craig deemed either “those songs white people get way too into, amazing, or hilariously bad”. 

After taking a break to recreate the duet scene from  _ The Skeleton Twins _ to “Nothings Gonna Stop Us Now”, Tweek was rubbing the water from a plate with his slightly dampened towel, catching his breathe, smiling hard when he heard the next song begin (another duet of their’s). 

“Man, fuck,” Craig sighed. 

Tweek peered over at him, feigning for interest, “What’s wrong, Kyle?”

“Man, it’s these kids, man, talkin’ shit, makin’ me feel bad,” Craig recited as he scrubbed melted cheese from a frying pan and tried his best to maintain a straight face. 

“Man, fuck them kids, bro!” Tweek exclaimed, then gestured around, “Look around, bro, look at life.” 

“Man, you’re right,” he shrugged, a smile darting across his face at Tweek’s animated actions, completely breaking character when he spouted the next line. 

“You see these fine bitches over here?” Tweek continued over Craig chuckling, “You see these trees, man, you see this water?”

Craig sputtered, “I guess it is okay,”

“C’mon, man, you got so much more to appreciate, man,” the blond assured him, maintaining his poker face, mostly to continue to admire Craig’s adorable laugh. 

“You’re right,” Craig told him, grinning. 

“You’re damn right I’m right, I can’t remember a time I was goddamn wrong!” 

Finally, Tweek found himself giggling along for a few seconds before they both sang every fast paced line of “iSpy” from memory, cracking one another up and taking far too long to finish cleaning the same pan.

5.2

“Can we stop at Dunkin?” Tweek asked, listlessly scrolling through his phone as Craig finished getting ready. 

Craig shook his head, “You just had coffee, babe. Remember what your therapist said.” 

He had forgotten he was supposed to be cutting back on caffeine as a means of helping his anxiety. He had been going to therapy sessions online for a while and was blessed to find someone who specialized in anxiety and depression consoling and was also a member of the LGBTQ+ community. It was a great match, and learning various techniques to help take back control over his own mind had been a freeing experience. 

Tweek pouted, “I only had, like, half a cup! Plus, that sugary crap barely has any caffeine anyway!” 

Craig cocked an eyebrow at him as he tied the laces his shoes, “I don’t think that’s necessarily true.”

“I’ll buy you a frozen chocolate,” the blond offered in a sing-song tone. Though it was tempting, Craig shook his head in refusal, standing to face his husband and unintentionally towering over him. Tweek leaned up on his toes and whispered softly in Craig’s ear, “I’ll do that thing you like tonight.” 

Even more tempting, Craig’s stomach fluttered. A smirk curled his lips as Tweek pressed his lips beneath his earlobe. “You’ll do that anyway.” 

Tweek hummed, “Not if you don’t let me have my coffee.” 

“Fine, I guess you won’t do it, then,” Craig shrugged, snaking his arms around his husband’s middle and becoming aroused by the open-mouthed kisses against his jaw and neck. 

Tweek reeled back, dissatisfied with his lackluster response. “You don’t want me to do that thing?”

“Of course I do, dude,” Craig rolled his eyes, “But I’d rather you stick to your routine and wean yourself off of coffee. There’s been such a huge difference since you cut back and it’s just been so great. I don’t want you to slip back into those habits. I want you healthy.”

Fighting the smile playing across his lips and conceding to the point, Tweek stole a long, lingering kiss from Craig’s mouth before offering, “You were right,” 

“About what?” he wondered. 

“That I’ll do it anyway,” He announced, pushing his lanky husband to the bed and climbing on top, connecting their lips again. 

5.3

Without even realizing he was, Tweek had begun hyperventilating. Widen eyes stared at the headline on his mobile device,  _Two Confirmed Coronavirus Cases in the United States._ Shaking, he skimmed the article, each line making him feel more and more out of control. What if they couldn’t contain it? What if it kept spreading? What if he got it? Or Craig? Or little Freddie or baby Lizzie? 

“Hey, what’s going on?” Craig questioned, concern written into his features on finding his boyfriend on the verge of tears. 

“They found COVID-19! It’s here in America! Oh,  _god!_ ”

“Tweek, it’s going to be okay,” he reminded him instinctually and claimed the couch cushion beside him. 

The blond snapped his head to look at him, face flushed, “You don’t know that! The president is completely incompetent! He just said it was a hoax!”

With a huff, Craig shook his head, “Yeah, that guy’s a moron, but what are we gonna do?”

“ _Freak out!_ ”

Long, flannel-clad arms encased Tweek in a supportive embrace. The anxiety-ridden boy shut his eyes and recalled his prescribed “grounding” technique in therapy, doing his best to focus solely on Craig before him: the smell of his shampoo, the sound of his breathing, the soft material of his shirt brushing against his own bare arms, the top of his thick, dark hair, and the thought of how his lips tasted. Though considerably calmer after the use of this strategy, Tweek found himself still plagued with concern, “It’s gonna spread and be a huge pandemic.”

“No, it won’t, babe. Remember ebola? You were all freak out about that, too, and only a few people got it.” 

“That’s when we had Obama!” Tweek shrieked, then allowed himself another moment to breath easily. “I know I’m right.”

“Okay, honey. Just keep breathing.”

5.4

“Uh... _Winter Soldier_?” 

“Nah,” 

“ _Joker_?” 

“No,” 

“ _Black Panther_?” 

“Hell no,” 

Tweek frowned, “Why hell no? I like that one,” 

Craig shot him a glare, “No, you like Michael B. Jordan. Especially shirtless,” 

Tweek blushed, cursing how transparent every single celebrity crush he ever had was. He shrugged, “Well, then, I don’t know what to watch.”

Craig shifted upwards, making space for Tweek to slot beside him. Generally the second Friday of the month was when they would go out to enjoy a movie together at their local theater, but it had been closed down due to the Coronavirus pandemic. “Let’s check HBO,” 

Tweek groaned, “We’re not watching  _Scoob_.” 

“Did I say I wanted to?” He retorted, though deep down, he definitely wanted to. “Simon Cowell is in it, though, just saying.” 

“You are the only person who still finds Simon Cowell funny, Craig.”

He shrugged, “I just think he’s awesome.”

Again Tweek groaned, this time long and dramatic, flipping over and burying his face in Craig stomach as he browsed for ideas. When nothing caught his eye, he sighed, “Let’s just watch _The Daily Show_.” 

Tweek shot up, grabbing the remote, “It’s the Daily Social Distancing Show now and I need to see what Trevor said about the riots,” 

Craig allowed himself to smile despite being completely exasperated by Tweek’s political fixation. He was just happy to hold him as he intently listened to the news commentary.

5.5

It had been only two hours since they had finally picked up their five month-old rescue pup from a shelter in Fairplay, and she was already absolutely in love with Craig. 

The couple had fallen madly in love with a red Australian Cattle dog that was discovered hooked to a chain and starving after her previous family had abandoned her when they moved. As soon as Craig had heard of her background, he was set on giving her a proper life and became thoroughly excited for what that entailed. 

Tweek watched as his big, child of a husband joyously chased the animal around their living room, a squeaky chew-toy in his hands as the pup nipped at it excitedly. He had rarely seen the man so animated, behaving quite similarly to when he played with their nephew. After an hour of incessant tug-of-war (with a few sufficient pet-breaks), Tweek began to wonder why he was not bored of watching the interaction. Perhaps it was the huge smile igniting Craig’s handsome face. 

“Come up with any good names yet?” Craig questioned, engaging in said pet-break, scratching the tan fur behind the dog’s pointed ears.

Humming, Tweek suggested, “What about Leslie? Y’know, like how her spirit dog was a cattle dog in the show,” 

“Boarder collie,” Craig corrected, useless sitcom knowledge coming far too easily to him, “I do like it, though. Or maybe... I don’t know, I always kinda wanted to name my dog something funny like Oatmeal or something.” 

Tweek laughed, “You wanna call this poor thing Oatmeal after everything she’s been through?!” 

“Okay, fine,” Craig conceded, chuckling and allowing the still slightly nervous animal to curl up into his lap for comfort. He grinned, patting her head, “Leslie it is.”

Tweek nodded in agreement, happy to have another new pet that they had purchased together (though he still loved to take care of the Stripes with him). Though he was somewhat intimidated by the additional pressure caring for a dog entailed, anything was worth seeing Craig so enthusiastic about Leslie’s presence. 

5.6

“Hey,” Tweek grinned up at Craig as he heard him enter the apartment. Leslie hurried to her favorite person’s side, jumping up against his thighs, earning loving scratches behind the ears. As soon as the pup had been sufficiently greeted, Craig pulled off his snow-moistened beanie and shrugged off his coat. On approaching him to steal a kiss, Tweek instantly sensed something was amiss. “What’s wrong?” 

“I-“ Craig began, unsure of how to tell him this. He knew the revelation would send his poor, sweet husband on a downward spiral, but he could not keep it a secret for long, “I got laid off today.” 

Completely take aback and immediately stricken with anxiety, Tweek gasped, “Oh, honey,”

Craig worked for a photography company, LifeTouch, in which he juggled training new faculty members and taking pictures (primarily school pictures and extracurricular events). Occasionally he would book weddings and do senior pictures, but most of his photography outside of work consisted of architectural and landscape styles, and endless portraits and candids of his cute husband (and most recently, pictures Leslie close up with a wide-angle lens). He had known this was a possibility since the statewide shutdown was issued, but dreaded the reality nonetheless. 

He slumped down to drape his arms around Tweek’s shoulders, burying his face in his neck as two arms wound around his middle. He muttered miserably, “It’s temporary, but I don’t know how long that will be.”

“I’m sorry,” Tweek sighed. He was getting increasingly better at gauging when he needs to put in extra effort to contain his rouge, nervous thoughts and feelings, and this has been one. He rubbed comforting circles against the small of his back, reassuring him with a whisper, “We’ll get through this.”

Craig sniffled, staying where he was and allowing himself to come undone in the comfort of Tweek’s embrace, “I have no idea how. I have to file for unemployment and that’s going to take for fucking ever,”

Tweek frowned, tracing his fingers through the man’s dark hair, “We have plenty in savings... You know me, I’m always saving up for stuff like this,”

Craig had to laugh, because he could not believe that Tweek’s incessant paranoia of a national disaster had actually come to fruition. He suddenly felt horrible for all the times he had teased him for being a conspiracy theorist. “I just don’t want to have to use savings because I don’t have a job. I want to use it for, like... a vacation or something. Not to pay rent. It’s all just so crazy.”

“I know,” Tweek sighed, focusing on both of their breathing, remaining calm, “We’re going to be fine. You’ll get unemployment and you’ll be back to work when things start opening back up.” 

Craig nodded, taking his time to feel sorry for himself and be coddled by his husband. He whined jokingly, “You’re gonna leave me for Stan now that I’m broke, aren’t you?”

“Stan?” Tweek chuckled, granting Craig a befuddled expression when he reeled back, “Why of all people would I leave you for a teacher? If anything, I’m going for Kenny’s electrician money. Or Jimmy with the YouTube,”

Craig snorted, “Yeah, I don’t know. I guess he’s just more your type.” 

“Literally how?” 

“I don’t know! He looks the most similar to me,” 

“He’s short and white, Craig,” 

“Okay, fine, leave me for Kenny, then,” 

Tweek shook his head, slipping hands beneath Craig’s sweatshirt, making him wince at the perpetually freezing temperature of his fingers, “I couldn’t do that to poor Butters.” 

“He would be all,  _Oh, jeez, Tweek, well, that ain’t very nice, uh, Kenny’s my man_! ” Craig’s ridiculous voice sent Tweek over the edge. 

After a head-thrown-back cackle, he exhaled, “No, he wouldn’t, he’d beat my ass! You remember what he did to Scott Malkinson in the fourth grade just for complaining about having diabetes,”

Craig laughed in remembrance, shrugging, “Just join their relationship. I can guarantee Kenny is open to polyamory,” 

“How about I stay with you and we descend into poverty together with our pet family?” Tweek suggested, pulling Craig back in for a hug. 

He huffed sardonically, “Fine, but I’m using Leslie as a blanket to stay warm when we’re homeless.” 

Craig worries had momentarily dissipated, concerned only for making out with his perfect husband. 

5.7

Craig grimaced at himself in the mirror, clad in a Tweek Bros uniform that did not look nearly as adorable on him as it did on his husband. For a couple of years then, Tweek had taken over his family’s businesses and making numerous (so many) foundational changes to improve the business model, functionality, product, location,  everything , that rendered the small coffee shop a profitable local business. While he was infinitely proud of him, he had just never pictured himself taking up a part-time position as one of his baristas to temporarily supplement their income. 

Tweek pursed his lips when he entered the bathroom, Craig immediately glaring at him, brown visor lop-sided atop his head, too small. Continuing to stifle his laugh, he reached up and removed the hat, adjusting the Velcro strap, “You don’t have to work for me, babe,” 

“I’d rather you tell me what to do than anyone else,” Craig growled aloud at the thought. 

Tweek smiled, replacing the visor over Craig’s fringe. “It’s gonna be fun! I scheduled us alone for the this Saturday! I have to cover for my opener,” 

“I’m  _opening_?” 

“You’re  _welcome_ ,” Tweek chuckled, kissing Craig’s cheek before tracing out of the room, yelling back to him, “You look hot!”

Shoulders slumped, he lingered to scrutinize his goofy reflection a bit longer. He was depressed about the whole ordeal until he began to fantasize pushing Tweek up onto the counter before the opening hours of the establishment (or during), nudging him as they hustled passed one another behind the counter, and of course, stealing food without being yelled at. He readjusted the hat to his comfort and decided he could definitely make the best of the situation. 

5.8 

“Craig... babe... C’mon... we open... Fuck,” Tweek struggled to force logic to separate the two bodies pressed against one another. Craig slotted between Tweek’s legs, which curled around his hips to keep him close despite the time quickly ticking away until the coffee shop was set to open. “Five minutes,” 

“Okay, then make out with me for three more,” He compromised with a sly smile before ducking down to kiss him deeply again. 

Sliding his lips in sync with his husband’s and twisting strands of dark hair between his fingers, he strongly considered postponing their hours until seven o’clock in the morning so the two of them could properly take care of one another. 

“ _Oh my god_ ,” Tweek screamed when a light tap sounded on the glass door seven minutes later. A disgruntled Tweek Bros regular was knocking against the glass door, ready for his morning coffee and scone. 

Craig untangled himself from his husband, laughing heartily at his paranoid reaction to such an easily detectable situation. He earned a middle finger from the man who was tracing to the entrance, and he flipped off the back of his head in retaliation, quickly lowering the gesture when an old man slipped into the entrance per Tweek’s admittance and kind greeting. As the two went to work fulfilling the first order of the day, Craig muttered, “Can we close together tonight?” 

Tweek shot him a wanting look, then a cute wink before carrying on with work. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also, if anyone’s interested, YES i did sit down and make a full playlist for tweek and craig doing dishes: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/35gQhkcY0sKTjCvaxUChGT?si=RPGVJcKSR3C4oqN1IXm5QA
> 
> & if this doesn’t work bc I know how spotify be sometimes, my user is analbeads5eva and the playlist is “doin’ dishes”  
> don’t judge me i was 15


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u to everyone who encouraged me to write this next chapter, & especially to my homies CherryBerry111, ambercreek95, & tlinrookie for sending me some prompts and ideas!!  
> i hope u enjoy and PLS if u have any requests put em in the comments or find me on tumblr: jewboy-kahl

6.1 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” 

“What?” Tweek gasped, darting his eyes away from his laptop and all around him. “What’s wrong?!”

Craig had just come home from his shift, smelling of coffee almost as intensely as Tweek always had, “What the fuck is on your face?” 

“What?! Oh, these?” He pulled the horn rimmed, half framed glasses from the bridge of his nose, “They’re supposed to protect your eyes from blue light! I heard it can cause nerve damage, so I bought you a pair too, for when you’re editing. I think they really work!” 

Disregarding the new glasses case that Tweek had left of the coffee table, Craig took strides over to his husband, “Put them back on,” 

“Okay,” Tweek agreed in a questioning tone, doing as he was told and peering up at the other man, “What’s wrong? Do they look dumb?” 

“No,” Craig blurted, cupping Tweek’s soft cheek in one hand, “You look so fucking adorable in those.” 

A smile stretched his lips, blush immediately coloring his face despite the decade he had spent being called cute by this man. “Thanks, honey.”

“Can you wear them next time you go down on me?” 

“Craig!” Tweek laughed, pointing to Leslie curled up beside him on the couch, “There are kids here,”

“A kid that’s about to see me kiss your unfairly cute face for ten minutes straight,” Craig added before swooping down and fulfilling his promise. 

6.2

Tweek scrutinized the plethora of creepy decorations his husband pulled from the grocery bags he had rested on the kitchen table on entering. His wary eye and crossed arms did not deter Craig from excitedly explaining each Halloween themed item, utterly unfazed until Tweek verbalized his qualms, “You do realize that it’s August, right? Like, I’m not just... by myself in reality,” 

Craig rolled his eyes, “I’m not stupid. They just put it all out so some of it was marked down. Plus,”—he reached into an unopened bag to retrieve a black, ceramic coffee mug shaped like a cauldron that read _Witch’s Brew_ —“I thought of you, too.” 

Accepting the attempt to win him over, Tweek took the mug and simpered, gliding his thumb over the textured wording. “Do I need to worry about coming home to a haunted apartment since you’re working again?” 

With a shrug, Craig lifted his new ghost figurine and put on a spooky, moaning impression, “ _If you keep making fun of your husband, you will_!”

Tweek sniggered and pushed him away as he approached, slowly moving around the figurine from side to side. Craig chased him momentarily before encasing him in a tight hug, enjoying a kiss on the cheek from the shorter man before he questioned again, “Is this all you bought?” 

“Yes... Well, and a skeleton.”

“What?! How big?”

“It’s about five-nine,” 

“Jesus Christ!” Tweek exclaimed, drawing back, “Where the hell are we gonna put that thing?!” 

“I was going to keep it in my passengers seat like that one guy from _Tiger King_.” Craig revealed with a smirk, earning another disapproving glare that was quickly extinguished by a cute laugh and another kiss on the cheek. He allowed himself plenty of time to love on the man who accepted him for who he was before going to work setting up the first round of new Halloween knickknacks. 

6.3

“How the hell do you drink that stuff?” Craig scrunched his nose as the smell of pumpkin spice coffee wafted toward him. 

Tweek grinned, sipping happily at the piping hot beverage. “It’s fall, babe. I legally have to drink it.” Chuckling, his husband shook his head, nursing his hot chocolate. He creased his eyebrows at him, “Also, will you ever get something other than hot chocolate?” 

“Nope. It’s the only delicious hot beverage.” 

He watched Craig drink carefully, “At least my drink is for adults.”

Craig threw him a smirk, “At least my drink wasn’t designed specifically for white women.” 

“Hey, white _people_!” Tweek laughed, “I’m allowed to indulge in my culture every once in a while. Or, lack there of,”

Craig snorted, peering out the window as Tweek pulled away from the gas pump. Though the snow covering the ground and spruce trees could be indicative of any season in South Park, business and houses were decorated with themes of fall and Halloween—his favorite time of year and holiday. Even the grossly flavored coffee Tweek would be sucking down for next month (until Christmas brought nothing but peppermint mochas) brought an eager smile to his lips. Though their apartment had already been decked out in spooky figurines and pumpkins for months, the outside world had finally caught up, and he became vastly excited to enjoy the fall traditions he had made with Tweek. 

6.4

The crispness of the autumn air and delicious taste of candy apple allowed Craig to forgive the screams of happy children and loud conversations between the strangers surrounding them. When Tweek had agreed on his behalf to accompany the Donovans to a pumpkin patch, he was initially irritated at having to decline Token’s much more attractive offer to play video games and eat junk food while the wife was away visiting family, but came to enjoy roaming around with his friends as Bebe and Clyde teamed up to chase Freddie around and Tweek happily accepted baby duty, their three month-old niece very comfortable with her tiny head rested against his shoulder. 

Craig also happened to adore Tweek’s fall clothing ensembles, the effortless soft boy look he possessed extremely apparent. Then, he was clad in denim overalls with an oversized, green pullover from the thrift shop underneath it. He had to roll up the pant legs to keep them from getting caught beneath his beat-up white Nikes, making his mismatched Halloween themed socks visible. How perfect he looked made Craig feel suddenly unworthy of holding his hand, publicly displaying their status while he was in his same, boring flannel, graphic t-shirt and khaki joggers attire. However, each loving side-glance from the gorgeous blond made him feel right at home. 

“Do you want to get a pumpkin to carve together?” Tweek asked, stifling a laugh as he watched Clyde try and fail to keep Freddie out of puddles that pooled beside the dirt paths they walked. 

With a nod, Craig veered toward the twenty-foot row of variously shaped, orange fruits. Scanning his eyes along their choices, he pointed out a cartoonish perfect, plump pumpkin a few feet from where they stood, “What about that boy?”

Tweek scrunches his nose, subconsciously swaying to keep Lizzie sleeping in his hold. “I don’t know, I kind of like those longer, taller looking guys.” 

“You mean like this?” Craig pointed with his foot to an elongated, yellowish guard. 

Giving a slight shrug, Tweek explained, “Yeah! I just think they’re kinda cute.” 

“You can’t carve them as well, though,” Craig told him, eyebrow arched. 

“Yes you can! And if not, I’ll just paint it!” 

Craig rolled his eyes, “You’re taking the joy of carving away from me?” 

“If you wanna put that big, juicy pumpkin on the deck for another raccoon to eat in two days again, be my guest.” Tweek conceded, though something in his tone told Craig he would continue to protest the decision at some point. 

Pushing out an exaggerated sigh, Craig leaned down and scooped up the thin, long pumpkin of Tweek’s preference. He fought his own smile when he peered at Tweek’s pleased grin. He bemoaned, “One of these days, I’m going to stop simping so hard for you.” 

“Don’t lie to yourself, Tucker,” Tweek teased, leaning on his toes to press a kiss against his cheek. Allowing that smile to stretch his lips, he began to began coming up with ideas for Tweek to paint on their pumpkin. 

6.5

“Michael Keaton is the epitome of chaotic evil in this movie,” Tweek said between bites of popcorn. 

Being mid-way through October meant being half-way done with Craig’s yearly “Halloween essentials” movie marathon, one classic film per night for the entire month. Though Tweek definitely enjoyed the movies (which were often cheesy, pre-2000s slashers) a lot less than his husband had, he would never refuse the snacks, warm blankets, or Craig’s head laying in his lap. _Beetlejuice_ was one of the more bearable (albeit ridiculous) movies on the thirty-one item list. 

Craig nodded in agreement, “He gives me a coked-up David Pumpkins vibe.” 

Snorting at the comparison, Tweek continued to watch, wiping the butter from his hands before imbedding his fingers into Craig’s soft, black hair. His husband let out a content sigh when he began gently scratching his scalp. A mere few minutes into the comforting massage, Craig was bombarded with licks and whines for attention from Leslie, who had trotted down from between his legs to right in front of his face. He groaned, turning away from the dog’s tongue and scratching her head. 

“It’s your turn to take her,” he told Tweek when the whimpering didn’t subside with physical affection. 

The blond frowned at the loss of contact when Craig propelled himself into an upright position to pause the film. On standing to find shoes and Leslie’s leash, he threw Craig a trouble look, “What if Michael Keaton jumps out of the bush and tells me it’s showtime?!”

Craig chuckled, “Then you won’t be able to get back inside and cuddle with me anymore.” 

Tweek pouted a lip, “I’ll be careful.” 

6.6

Craig could not have imagined a better way to spend a Saturday afternoon—he had been back to work for a few weeks, Tweek had finally found a reliable opener for Saturday mornings at Tweek Bros, Leslie was not actively trying to gnaw on her leash, and the weather was still above 40 degrees. Though the camera strap around his neck paired uncomfortably with the collar of his black bomber and his knees were beginning to creak from the strain of carrying his long legs around, it had been the most serene he had felt since nearly the beginning of the year. 

Tweek was also glowing, tugging gently on Leslie’s leash to keep her in line, using an old South Park Little League hat to contain his wild curls that were well past due for a trim. His husband had spent the better half of the morning hike merely admiring everything about him, snapping unknown candid shots (and getting away with most of them). 

“Stop that!” Tweek scolded when he heard the click of Craig’s Nikon, shooting him a glare when he caught the lens pointed at him, “Jesus, Craig, I look busted right now.” 

Craig scoffed, “Fuck off,” 

“I’m serious!” The blond’s protests continued, crunching leaves on the way to his husband, who ducked away from the arm threatening to swat his extremely expensive and important device, “I don’t want to remember what I look like unshowered in the wilderness!” 

“You are so dramatic,” Craig laughed, continuing to easily twist away from Tweek’s grabby hands. 

Leslie’s tail wagged, playfully pouncing against Craig’s thighs to join the fun. He yanked on the strap so the camera was safe behind his back, turning his attention to the cattle dog challenging

him. Tweek watched them wrestle, Leslie’s claws kicking up dirt with each hustling jolt to the side. Smirking to himself, he tugged his iPhone from the front pocket of his jeans, lifting his phone to record the two. 

He managed to capture a minute of footage before Craig realized his husband was exacting his revenge. The end of the video was Craig’s high-pitched, mocking impression of Tweek, “Stop that! I look busted right now!” 

Tweek shrieked when Craig effectively smacked his device from his grasp, fumbling momentarily before he lost his grip on the cell phone and it clattered to the leave-ridden earth. “Are you fucking kidding me?! You’re such an ass!” 

“Relax, it’s fine,” Craig retorted, simpering at his husband’s panicked scanning over his phone for scratches as he took his turn leading their pup. 

“Also, double fuck you for making fun of me! I’m _so_ sorry I’m not okay with my disheveled appearance!” 

“You just took a video of me, you baby!” Craig exclaimed, gesturing to the phone in his hands. 

“Well, you look super hot! It deserves to be documented!” Tweek defended, unable to stop the coy smile from curling his lips. 

Craig returned the expression, dangling an arm around his shoulders and appeasing Leslie’s eagerness to keep moving forward, “At the risk of repeating myself, fuck off.”

Tweek “punished” him with a swift smack on the butt before slipping his hand into the back pocket of his joggers. They continued enjoying the outdoor elements and sniffing in the crisp, autumn air, taking pictures and complaining and kissing. 

6.7

“Well, hey, fellas!” Butters greeted Tweek and Craig warmly upon their arrival. A shaggy, green wig sat atop his head and gory, clown makeup was painted expertly on his face to resemble the Joker. “You look great!” 

Buzz Lightyear and Woody were holding hands on entering, a childhood theory Craig had always joked about coming to life. Craig’s costume was a bit of a cop out, using a hoodie designed after the Toy Story character. For whatever reason, his parents had kept the old astronaut costume he wore out, and he was able to repurpose the clear, dome-shaped helmet. Tweek, on the other hand, went all out; he had purchased not only the cow-print vest and flat-brimmed cowboy hat, but also the mustard yellow and red flannel and a pair of boots he scrawled ‘Andy’ on the bottom of. The blond took Kenny’s threats of being kicked out if their costume wasn’t cool enough far more to heart than Craig did.

“Hey, cuties,” They were greeted by Bebe. A black leotard with skeleton bone design on the front clung to her curves and belly pouch, her long, curly hair falling freely as she sat on the McCormick’s couch. 

Craig claimed a spot beside her, grabbing a handful of the chips she was snacking on on the way down. Tweek grinned at her, “How’s your first night out without Lizzie?”

“Not as hard as the first night without Fred,” she responded, then raised a half-drunken Jack Daniels Southern Peach drink toward him, “And I forgot how delicious alcohol is.” 

With a snort, Craig inquired, “Is Clyde also in a skin tight ass skeleton costume?” 

Bebe crinkled her nose at her friend beside her, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

“Totally,” he deadpanned. 

“I’m actually matching with Jimmy this year. Him, Clyde, and Token wanted to do some weird characters from SNL skits and I guess I’m a beat boy skeleton for Jimmy’s costume,” 

Tweek and Craig widened their eyes at one another immediately, “Did he seriously dress up like David Pumpkins?!” 

Tweek barked a laugh, “That’s gonna be priceless!” 

“Hey, you made it!” Another presence greeted them. Kenny’s voice made Tweek turn around, resulting in an impromptu and very loud gasp when he saw what the man was wearing. He waggled his eyebrows, “You like what you see, Tucker?” 

Tweek sputtered, “I—uh, well... You look great?”

Craig rolled his eyes, pushing himself to a standing position beside his husband. Bebe chuckled to herself at the subtle jealousy the man possessed even well into a year of marriage with Tweek. She had to admit, however, that Kenny was absolutely pulling off at least the mesh panty hose that went along with his Harley Quinn ensemble. The short pigtails of his own hair pulled back and temporarily dyed blue and pink was also a nice touch. 

Kenny heeled boots rendered him as tall as Craig, who had become preoccupied with the smudgy makeup smeared on his freckled cheeks. The couple finally had to laugh at his attire. Craig said, “Going back to your roots, princess Kenny?” 

“Yes, m’lord,” he joked, crossing his arms over his red and black crop top, “Thank you for somewhat dressing up. I am furious at Stanley at the moment for wearing his high school football uniform. How the fuck does that shit even fit him still?” 

“He’s lil,” Bebe giggled from behind the small congregation. Kenny smirked at this. 

“Not as lil as the Joker over there,” Tweek defended, and Kenny’s smirk curled into a smile. 

“Hot, isn’t he?” 

With that, Craig decided to find a delicious alcohol beverage to imbibe. He drifted past a few nameless faces he assumed were coworkers of hosts’, and on entering the kitchen he found the remainder of his friend group chatting over the spooky snack spread Butters had excitedly (meticulously) compiled for their viewing and eating pleasure. Craig plopped a mummy-decorated pig-in-a-blanket into his mouth while examining his friend’s costumes and fielding greetings from them all. 

Nichole was wrapped up in her redhead husband’s arms from behind, both impersonating Asgardian superheroes from Marvel. Craig appreciated Kyle’s adaptation of Thor despite their opposite physiques, and his wife’s beauty radiated in everything, including her Valkyrie costume. Token and Clyde caught his attention next, and he couldn’t help but chuckle aloud at the costume choice he immediately recognized from his favorite Saturday Night Live skit. 

Clyde, clad in his best impression of Andy Samburg’s homemade-esque Admiral Spaceship costume, gave a playful bowl, “Good evening. Are you glad I kept it a surprise, kemosabe?” 

“I mean... I don’t care that much, but it’s pretty funny,” Craig responded, scanning Token’s matching Nitro costume. Both were carrying stuffed cats. “If you would have told me, I could definitely convinced Tweek to dress up like Elton John.” 

Token hissed, “Man, if we had a Droz, that would’ve been even more perfect!” 

“ _Laser laser laser laser laser cats_ ,” Clyde sang, Token and Craig joining in, all playing the air keyboard. 

Kyle addressed Craig when they had finished quoting “Laser Cats” and cackling at themselves, “Thank you for actually dressing up so I don’t have to hear that fucking lunatic that possessed Kenny scream at anyone else for not putting enough effort in like he did Stan.” 

“It was brutal,” Nichole added, feigning for solemnity. 

“Do you really think I would let McCormick yell at me?” Craig posed, none of the opposing. “Where’s Jimmy?” 

“I think by the fire pit with Stan and Wendy,” Nichole answered, “Make sure Stan isn’t touching those wine coolers!” 

With no intention of following those orders, Craig pulled the sliding door ajar and stepped out onto the back porch. The niceness of Butters and Kenny’s ranch made him crave a home instead of the apartment he and Tweek and shared for years. The extra space and access to a plot of land for a dog to be let out and free whenever they desired to was a dreamy thought. It was pushed aside when he spotted Jimmy by the subdued campfire. 

The man had gone so far as to perm his hair to resemble Tom Hank’s strange phenomenon sketch character, David S. Pumpkins. The black suit littered with orange, pumpkin silhouettes was quintessential Halloween comedy. Jimmy granted his friend goofy smile when he approached, leaning against his crutches, “A-A-Any questions?” 

“Several,” Craig retorted with a laugh. He eyed the second beat boy skeleton lounging in a lawn chair beside Jimmy, which was Leslie in an identical costume to Bebe’s. Beside her was a fellow noirette, a visibly pregnant Wendy in a simple, oversized pumpkin costume. She waved to him, her husband following suit. 

Stan’s costume had definitely earned Kenny’s dissatisfaction. On his old, green jersey, the bold letters reading ‘South Park’ were beginning to peel, and a dingy football helmet sat in his lap. Craig shook his head, “So last year you were a lame football player and this year you are just yourself from the past?” 

“Hey, don’t diss Peyton Manning,” Stan warned teasingly, “But the other part is correct. I thought I’d switch it up.” 

“This is wh-why Kenny hates you, S-S-Stan,” Jimmy jested. 

“He loves me,” Stan disagreed, accepting a hand outstretched from his wife beside him. 

As he fell into conversations with the group, he heard another presence entering the chill of the night. He grinned to see his cute, blond cowboy trotting over to where he stood, handing him an ice cold Angry Orchard Apple Cider. He simpered at his husband, wondering how the hell he knew of him forgetting to grab himself a drink before searching for Jimmy in his hilarious costume. With a grin and a swig of the flavored hard cider, he decided it must have been lover’s intuition. 

6.8 

A bored frown settled across Tweek’s face, his cheap, black witches’s hat dipping into his line of sight before brushed it away. He peered over at Craig and Tricia, family resemblance evident in their identical browsing positions. Trick-or-Treating was set to begin in their parent’s neighborhood at 6:00pm, and the three had been camped outside of the Tucker residence for a half-hour with only a handful of visitors. 

“This is almost as awful as that one Halloween with all the scooters,” Tweek sighed, pulling down his coffee themed face mask that Butters had sewn for him, realizing it was not needed.

Craig grumbled, “Nothing is worse than the scooters, babe.” 

Tricia locked her iPhone with a sigh, already wearing her face covering as a purple chin diaper, “I don’t know, this is pretty fucking creepy. I don’t like kids that much, but not seeing a million running around on Halloween is unsettling.” 

Leave it to Coronavirus to crush the holiday spirit. Tweek had recently shifted from a healthy fear of the virus to an all-out hatred for the flu-like curse and its crushing societal domino effect. Be let out a childish harumph before casting his gaze to his husband and sister-in-law, “Should we just go in? I’m gonna go make coffee anyway.” 

“I guess so. We can just leave the bowl out here,” Tricia suggested, standing to her feet, stretching her back, “Mom got you that pumpkin spice shit.” 

Tweek grinned brightly at this revelation, “I love her so much.” 

The Tuckers were unbelievably great to Tweek, directly reflecting the treatment his husband had been giving him since their friendship’s infancy. He had always leaned on them for love and support due to his rocky relationship with his own parents, and he had been consistently accepted with open arms. Before they crossed the threshold, Tweek’s hand wrapped around Craig’s wrist. He yanked him downward and captured him in a hard, impromptu kiss. Pleasantly surprised by the gesture, Craig moved to snake his arms around the blond’s waist, gliding his lips along his slowly and lovingly. 

“Uh...” A small voice startled them, causing them to jump apart. The embarrassed couple peered at a pair of pudgy, ten year-old Ghost Busters, “Trick or treat?”

“Are you guys homosexuals?” the other kid inquired, quizzical eyebrows pointed together. 

“Just, uh...” Craig muttered, mechanically grabbing the candy bowl from the TV tray they had set up earlier, “Take... all of this,” 

He took a few moments to distribute the remaining candy between to the two. Their eyes widened with genuine excitement. The first one gushed, “Thanks, sirs!” 

“Oh god,” Tweek growled, pressing his forehead against Craig’s arm, “That was terrible.” 

“Let’s pretend that didn’t happen and go watch _Halloween_ ,” Craig suggested. 

The rest of the night was spent watching a cheesy, old slasher with Craig’s family and enjoying various fall themed delicacies and only periodically wishing they had never been born just to make out in front of middle schoolers like they had. 

6.9 

“I’m going to kill myself,” Craig threatened, forehead pressed firmly against the stirring wheel. “I’m not kidding.” 

“ _I, don’t want a lot for Christmas_ ,” Tweek sang, exaggerating Mariah Carey’s vibrato, “ _There is just one thing I need_ ,” 

As his husband continued, he turned to face him. He ignored how cute this was, infuriated with the fact that Christmas music was already on his mind, “It’s goddamn November fourth, you asshole.” 

“ _All I want for Christmas, is_ ,” Tweek paused dramatically with the song, reaching his fingertips out to cup his grumpy husband’s chin, shimming his shoulders as he attempted the next note, “ _You_ ,” 

“We’re getting divorced,” Craig grumbled, starting to drive, slowly hating hearing Tweek sing beside him less and less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also i dont know how to link fanart/tumblr posts in here bc I’m dumb person hours but i based tweek & craig costumes off of fanart by tweeksqueak and ken’s costume off of fanart by emilysartstudio-s  
> both are FANTASTIC artists


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u to all my lovely fellow creek shippers for the suggestions and help!! i love u all sm and i would list u individually but you know who you are and its 1am and im tired  
> thanks again for the comments and love!! <3

7.1 

Craig’s attention was moved from the documentary playing on the television screen to the front door, where Tweek had stormed in and slammed the door shut. The smile he granted his husband went unnoticed as Tweek stomped over to the space just before the television. 

He appeared vaguely disheveled—more so than usual. His blond mop was sticking up in all directions how it usually looked when he had been pulling on it, and he had left his black apron on, covered in crumbs. Craig was not surprised by this as he has just gotten off of a twelve hour shift; however, the expression of pure frustration and panic made him feel sorry for the man. 

“Craig, I am going to tell you something, and I don’t wanna talk about it right now. I have made this decision and it’s final. After I tell you, don’t respond. If we talk about it, I will have a panic attack.” 

Craig furrowed his brow, confusedly agreeing, “Okay...” 

Tweek exhaled deeply, shutting his eyes and sputtering out his revelation, “I’m selling Tweek Bros and I’m using the money to go back to college. My parents put me in charge of it and I’m fucking tired of it, and them still being controlling assholes about the shop and my life. I need to get away from them and management and coffee. I don’t know what major I’m going to do but I know I’m not ever going to be in charge of people or a business ever again and I’m going to ignore my parents for at least a year. And I think I’m gonna do art or something.” 

After the short rant, he immediately spun around on his heels and sped off to their bedroom, presumably to change. Craig remained stunned on the couch, but felt increasingly proud of and excited for the decision Tweek had made. 

Tweek Bro’s has been an increasing source of chaos and anxiety in Tweek’s life since Craig could remember. He had been working for his parents since he could pick up a broom. He had urged Tweek on multiple occasions to step down from ownership and the General Manager position of the previously hellaciously run business that he saved and improved, as it had never been good for his mental health. Craig wondered what the final straw was that day, and how he could help until the transition was final. Instead he respected Tweek’s wishes to push the topic from his mind for the time being. 

Tweek returned to the living room, freshly showered and clad in a loose, black Nirvana t-shirt and a pair of Craig’s baggy sweatpants. He gingerly moved the snoozing Leslie from Craig’s lap and replaced her, curling up against his chest. Craig wrapped him up in a warm hug and pressed kisses to his wet hair as they watched the remained of the  Hubble . 

7.2 

“Okay, that is definitely not a word!” Tweek spouted, absolutely fed up with his husband’s infinite knowledge. 

Craig threw his hands up in the air, “What the fuck, yes it is? It’s a hat or something,” 

Tweek laughed indignantly, smashing his thumbs against his phone’s keyboard. Why he agreed to play  Scrabble with his sneakily brilliant husband was beyond him, as he had never won a single game. When Google proved him wrong yet again, he reluctantly conceded, “Where the hell did you hear  _ coif  _ before?! It’s, like, part of a nun’s headpiece!” 

Craig merely shrugged and scribbled the points the word earned him onto the notepad they used to keep score. The couple sat on the carpeted floor of their bedroom, the game board and a bowl of popcorn between them. Alexa was spouting one of Craig’s playlists and Leslie was snoozing in their bed, Stripe softly whimpering in her cage. After Tweek had decided to resign and sell the family business, he had a massive altercation with his parents. He promised to split the money from the buyer with them despite the store being in his name (and being the only one to care for it for five years). The couple decided to take a week off of work together to celebrate his newfound freedom before he began a part time job at Whole Foods. 

Thus far the in week, they had experienced nothing but cold, rainy weather that made any outdoor endeavors unbearable. While initially disappointed, Tweek soon found himself preferring the impromptu indoor staycation. He was rather enjoying being sprawled out on the floor as they laughed together, nothing but the soft swells of music and the gentle patters of rain against the window sounding around them. Tweek could not recall a time he felt more at peace. 

The blond pointlessly shuffled his letters around, enjoying the sound of wood clacking together. He could not think of a single word to add to the collection, making Craig’s effortless display of vocabulary genius even more frustrating. “It’s not even fair that you’re as smart as you are without even trying. I would use it for good.” 

Craig snorted, planting pieces of popcorn into his mouth, “Knowing a lot of words does not make me smart.” 

“Getting a 32 on your ACT does,” Tweek murmurs, collecting a decent enough amount of points with the word  _ cow _ cascading downward from Craig’s previous addition. 

Craig would never deny being inherently intelligent and book smart. Facts, logic, and data all came naturally to him. A large portion of his career included quick math and fiscal analysis. These factors he did not mind because it was simple, but he also enjoyed the brakes that taking and editing of pictures and training new employees gave him. He would also never brag about this, being aware of Tweek’s struggle in all of these areas—even testing and school themselves.

“Who cares what those tests say? You’re the smartest person I know.” 

Tweek rolled his eyes, “Colleges care. If I got higher than a fucking 21, maybe I would have gotten some kind of scholarship!” 

“I get that, but I’m just saying. They don’t actually determine how intelligent you are. It’s a reductive system.” 

“Well, still,” Tweek shrugged, granted Craig a smile, “you’re really fucking smart, and I admire you for it.” 

“Thanks, honey. But, don’t speak too soon,” Craig warned with a smirk. 

Tweek’s eyebrows came together confusedly as he watch Craig arrange his letters. His mouth fell ajar when he read  _ squeeze _ on the small, square pieces. Nostrils flared, he seethed, “How many points is that?” 

Craig stalled his answer with a handful of popcorn. He chuckled as Tweek nudged him with his hole-ridden sock-clad foot, urging him to deliver the detrimental news, “76,” 

“What?!” Tweek shouted, raising his hands to his head, “What the fuck, Craig!” 

The dark-haired man’s laughing escalated with Tweek’s frustration. Watching his husband throw his head back, belly laughing at his expense infuriated his competitive spirit. In one fluid motion, Tweek tugged the cardboard corners of the board and flipped it over, sending the wooden squares all around them. It was Craig’s turn to gawk in surprise, “Dude, what the hell!” 

“Don’t  _ dude _ me! You are terrible to play that stupid game with!” Tweek huffed, nudged Craig’s thigh again. 

Craig grabbed Tweek’s foot, impeding the next blow,“You are such a sore loser! How did you make it this far?” 

“Fuck off!” Tweek groaned, climbing across the discarded  Scrabble board. Launching himself forward, he grasped Craig’s forearms and pinned him back against the floor. 

With an  _ oof _ , Craig furrowed his brow at Tweek and fought for freedom against the smaller man’s surprising strength. Tweek stifled a laugh as he rocked back and forth with the movements. He was well aware that he would lose this fight as well, but he continued to force his arms against the floor. 

After a ridiculous struggle, Tweek let himself fall forward, both falling into fits of laughter. Craig wrapped his arms around Tweek’s neck and coaxed him into a lingering kiss. When they withdrew, Craig hummed, “I’m never playing any games with you again.” 

“I understand.” He chuckled before pressing their lips together again. 

7.3

“Cartman and Heidi are back together,” Craig announced from the opposite side of the bed as his husband. 

Tweek tore his gaze from his own iPhone to examine the evidence of Craig’s statement, seeing a picture of the hot-and-cold couple hugging one another on Heidi’s Instagram. He rolled his eyes before looking back at his Tumblr page, “Didn’t their divorce  _ just _ get finalized?” 

Craig laughed, nodding in confirmation before continuing to scroll. A bout of silence passed between the two before he had another piece of information to relay, “It’s that one guy you like’s birthday. Taron Egg-erton.” 

Tweek sent him an endearing smile, “ _ Edge _ -erton, babe.” 

“Yeah, I don’t actually care.” Craig retorted, half-joking. 

After a few more moments of silence, Tweek pressed the button on the side of his phone, locking it with a click. He takes a moment to admire his husband’s profile, and the stubble that adorned his cheeks. He wetted his lips before asking, “Craig?” Craig put his phone down at the sound of Tweek’s tone and turned his attention to him. A small grin encouraged him to continue. “Do you think me quitting Tweek Bro’s was too crazy?” 

“No, why?” 

Tweek sighed, “I’m just so worried I’m making a huge mistake... I mean, what if I don’t find anything else I like or I’m good at?!” 

Craig shrugged, reached out to place a comforting hand on Tweek’s thigh. “I think you will like anything better than Tweek Bro’s, honey.” 

With a snort, he shook his head, “I mean, I know I was miserable in that place, but I know it so well... I don’t know, the start of starting completely from scratch is just...” 

The blond reached a hand up to burry his hands in his messy waves. Craig frowned and scooted closer. He wrapped his arms around the man, gingerly pulling his hands from their tight grasp on his hair before he pulled any chunks out. “I know it must be a lot, but just think about how much happier you will be when you get settler at a job you weren’t forced into by your insane parents. Maybe you won’t even have to see them anymore. Maybe you’ll become a world famous painter now. Maybe you’ll love Whole Foods so much you won’t even want to go to college.” 

“I know it’ll be better in the long run, but getting there is just... It’s so much pressure!” Tweek huffed, resting his head against Craig’s shoulder. He pouted a lip, “Can’t we just not work and do whatever we want together forever?” 

“You know I’d be all over that if we could,” the dark haired man chuckled, pressing a kiss to Tweek’s forehead, “We still have all day tomorrow to ourselves, and then we get to spend some time with the guys the next night. It’ll be fun. Just try not to think about it for the time being. I know that isn’t really your style, but just try.” 

Tweek let out another long exhale before straining his neck to steal a kiss from his husband, “I love you. Thank you for supporting me.” 

“I love you,” Craig repeated, gazing lovingly into his eyes, “Apparently that’s what husbands are supposed to do.” 

“Oh, really?” Tweek chuckled, twisting his body to better access the man beside him, pressing more kisses to his lips and prickly cheeks. 

7.4 

With a huff, Tweek finally joined Craig at the small, round table set up in their apartment. His back was slightly stiff from standing upright and cooking for an hour and he was still annoyed at Leslie for making him trip by getting underneath his feet. This made him drop a few strips of raw bacon—which she swiftly devoured. She was still pouting on the sofa after being scolded by both of her dads. He untied the back of his apron, eyeing Craig’s expectantly as he took a large bite of his homemade chocolate chip waffles. “Good?” 

Craig moaned, “So fucking good.” 

Proud of himself, Tweek pulled tugged the dirty apron from around his neck and draped it over the back of the chair. After shoveling a few bites into his mouth, admiring his own handiwork, he glanced across the table to find Craig’s judging stare. He frowned, mouth full, “What is it?” 

Craig chortled soundlessly, shaking his head, “You have chocolate all over your face.” 

Tweek rolled his eyes, chewing and grabbing the half-gone roll of paper towels from the center of the table. “Fuck off, I’m hungry.” 

“It’s just funny. You are good at everything but eating.” 

“Anyways,” Tweek asserted with teasing attitude laced in his tone. He peered back fo Craig once his chin and the sides of his mouth were wiped clean. “What do you want to do for date night tonight?”

Craig shrugged, moving a hand through his unwashed hair. “We could see a movie,” 

Tweek grimaced, “I don’t know, there isn’t even anything good out.” 

“ _Tenet_ ,” 

“That’s Christopher Nolan, man! You know I don’t like being confused!” 

“Yeah, but that guy you have a crush on is in it,” Craig pursed his lips trying to recall the actor’s name, “He was in _BlacKkKlansman_ ,” 

“John David Washington,” Tweek answered, then shot back, “It also has the guy you like from _Twilight_.” 

“And _Harry Potter_ ,” Craig amended with a smirk, “Okay, how about dinner, then? We haven’t had a sit-down at a restaurant since they reopened indoor dining,” 

That was because Tweek had been paranoid about contracting the Coronavirus from an unwitting carrier. Or, a knowing carrier that could not afford to miss two whole weeks of work. He worried his bottom lip for a moment before sighing, “I would really like to. If we do, can we go to a nicer one?” 

Craig nodded, “Sure, honey. We can go wherever you want.” 

Tweek flashed a smile his way as they finished off the delicious breakfast together. He received multiple more complimentary reviews of his cooking and sweet kisses on his face as they cleaned their plates together. An idea struck Tweek a few songs into this “doin’ dishes” playlist. “Do you wanna take some pictures of Leslie at the park? With her new Christmas sweater?”

Craig nodded, “Sounds good. Anything else you want to do?” 

Tweek hummed, absentmindedly tapping his toes along with the beat of “3005”. Once he came up with his second idea, he granted Craig another excited simper, “Thrift store date?” 

“Sure.” Craig agreed. 

With the plan in place, Tweek was much more excited about the day ahead. It felt like so long since the two had time to genuinely enjoy their first year of marriage. The outside world posed so much insanity that strongly affected him (primarily in terms of the tense political climate) and the looming threat of another shutdown cause Craig’s nerves to go off from time to time. A date night sounded just perfect to him, and so did a walk in the park with their dog, and shopping, and anything, truly—as long as Craig was there. 

7.5

Craig trailed behind his husband, becoming bored as Tweek took his excruciatingly sweet time sorting through the extensive racks of clothes at their local thrift shop. 

The isles of repurposed clothing were arranged by color, which was both aesthetically pleasing and helpful to Craig, who went straight for the green section and procured the perfect item. The couple had decided to chose outfits for each other to wear on their dinner date that night, and he loved to see his husband sporting earthy tones that complimented the green in his eyes. The fact that Tweek was on minute twenty of sifting through clothing with no decisions made it clear that his husband did not possess a color preference for him. 

“What is wrong with you?” Tweek questioned, glancing over his shoulder. He clarified when he detected Craig’s bewildered expression, “You just yawned, like, four times in a row.” 

“Oh,” Craig said, “Sorry.” 

Tweek grinned, “No, sorry I’m so boring. I promise I’ll be done in a second,” 

“You’re fine, honey. I’m not in a rush.” 

This was nothing Craig was not used to; the couple frequented thrift shops and such as Tweek did his best to be anti-cooperation and buy locally sourced or reused items. Craig came to terms with the practice as clothing was the one facet of his life he couldn’t care less about being on brand or brand new. 

Had Tweek asked him to give up his Nintendo fascination, it would have been a completely different story. 

Craig drifted off and away from the clothing section to the much less organized portion of the establishment where miscellaneous appliances, knick-knacks, books, and useless forgotten items. It was a similar situation that made him aware of this part of the store; Tweek was picky when it came to his own wardrobe as well. He scanned his eyes along the cheap, preowned objects displayed on high rising shelves. 

On a lower shelf was a shabby, hardcover book that caught his eye. He lifted the work and read the cover: _Howl and_ _Other Poems_ by Allen Ginsberg, Introduction by William Carlos Williams . The whole thing sounded quite familiar, and he wracked his brain to soon recall that Ginsberg was a homosexual poet from the Beat Generation whom Tweek was a fan of. He flipped through the pages, scanning the poems without retaining anything. He had never been a huge consumer of content—he was more of a performer if anything. He imagined his husband, however, pouring over the borderline confessional style poetry in bed for hours, maybe even wearing the new sweater he had chosen for him, definitely sipping at a mug of steaming coffee. 

“I got it!” Tweek exclaimed, causing his husband to flinch at his sudden appearance. He snorted, “Didn’t mean to scare you, sorry,” 

“Then why do you sound so pleased?” Craig teased, eyeing the mustard yellow, flowing material in Tweek’s hold. His brows furrowed deeper, “What are you putting me in?” 

Tweek beamed at him, “It’s a button-down! I think you’re gonna look so cute. I want to see you in more bright colors again.” 

Craig huffed, “I guess I will dress gayer again now that we can actually go places.”

“That’s the spirit.” Tweek laughed, falling in line with his husband as they traced toward the registers. He eyed the faded, white book in Craig’s hand and cocked an eyebrow at it. He asked, “What’s that?”

Tilting the book toward him, Craig explained, “It’s a poem book from that poet you like. The one that was dating a con-artist or something.” 

Tweek’s lips stretched into a wild grin, his gapped teeth fully on display. Craig relished in his ability to cause such a beautiful sight. The blond removed the book from his grasp and scanned his fingers along the smooth spine. He licked his lips, “I haven’t talked about this since high school.” 

Surprised by how long it had been, Craig nodded, “Hey, maybe it will get you back into writing poetry.” 

His admiration for Craig swelled to an uncontrollable level, brought about by the completely casual, incredibly sweet remembrance of a reference from a paper Tweek had written about the Beat Movement for his senior year English class. He thrust his arms around Craig’s middle, ceasing his movement abruptly. Craig staggered, an amused smirk turning the corners of his lips upward. “As nice as this is, why are you bear hugging me in the middle of Valley Thrift?” 

The blond hummed happily before reluctantly withdrawing from his husband’s presence. Though his smile was toothless then, it spread across his whole, freckled face, forming crinkles in his eyes. “You’re just the sweetest person ever.” 

“I’m glad you think so, because you are the only one.” Craig joked, throwing an arm around Tweek’s shoulders and they continue to stride toward the front of the store. 

7.6

“You don’t have to wear that anymore,” Craig informed his husband. He had long since tugged off his new, plain black mask and set it aside. Tweek was on his third sip of water from underneath the disposable, blue face covering. 

Tweek furrowed his eyebrows, “I’m gonna wear it until food is here.” 

Craig let his eyes roll, and Tweek would have muttered something snarky about how he _saw that_ if he hadn’t been so busy admiring the way his hazels shined green with the soft white bulb illuminating their faces from a pendant light above their heads. The restaurant was a favorite of Tweek’s, a slightly more upscale, which he felt shallow to admit he trusted more to take extra cleaning precautions compared to the likes of a fast food chain. Though he remained on edge, Italian food had been on his mind all day, and his mouth nearly watered as he relayed his order to their bustling waitress. 

As he had predicted, Craig looked phenomenal in the yellow button-down shirt. The color perfectly complimented his toasted complexion, and the fabric hung loosely from his shoulders, granting him an effortlessly chic aura. Tweek felt that Craig’s choice for him was nothing special—an emerald green pullover and a pair of black skinny jeans. He could not prevent his white undershirt from peaking out from beneath the hem, which bothered him immensely. However, if Craig experienced the same admiration for him sporting the color green that he was feeling for the yellow-clad man, he could empathize. 

“I’m going to edit those pictures of Leslie tonight if you don’t care.” Craig began a new conversation, freely drinking in large gulps of his own water. 

“That’s fine! I’ll read my new book.” Tweek retorted, which brought on another topic for him, “Is there anything you want for Christmas?” 

Craig smirked, “Playstation 5—“ 

“Nope,” Tweek interrupted, grinning as Craig chuckled, “I love you, but I just quit my job. We are not spending $500.” 

“It’s a joke, babe. Token will probably get one anyway.” 

Tweek nodded. Suddenly his thoughts began to swarm around the notion of not being able to afford anything decent at all this year. He frowned from behind his mask, “Will you be disappointed if we have to go light this year?” 

“No, but what makes you think we will?” 

“I don’t know... I’m just so fucking paranoid about this whole work thing... I’m sorry I keep bringing it up, I just can’t stop thinking about it.” 

Craig sighed, granting him a small smile. He reached across the table and cupped Tweek’s freezing cold, pale hands in his own, instantly warming his up. “I know this is hard on you. It’s okay to be anxious.” 

Tweek wetted his lips and nodded, “I know it is, I just feel like I’m ruining our week off by freaking out about it every day!” 

The blond hand is soothed by Craig’s thumb tracing gently circles against the back on his hand. He offered, “Just get it out, Tweek. You aren’t bothering me at all. I’m always here to listen.” 

That was all Tweek needed to pour his nervous soul out. He sputtered on about being terrified for the future and failing school and being forced to crawl back to his parents with his tail between his legs. Well into their meal, he was still discussing the possibility that he had completed screwed up their lives, and Craig merely listened as intently as he would if he were telling him a humorous anecdote. 

Craig took his turn in speaking once Tweek had run out of steam, giving him gentle reminders that the would be okay and he will be happier. Tweek understood the validity of the points but could not help being consumed by the negative possibilities of his new life choices. 

Sucking in deep breaths, Tweek realized he felt much more weightless after allowing himself to have the full blown discussion. Before it was chaste complaints about being nervous that did not extend into the conversation he needed to have, though he was merely afraid of Craig being secretly angry at him for selling Tweek Bros. That was clearly not the case, and instead his heart swelled in appreciation for his husband. 

“Can we skip desert?” Tweek asked unexpectedly. 

Craig cocked an eyebrow, “Sure. Everything okay?” 

“Yeah,” Tweek confirmed, stretching a leg out to rub against Craig’s calf. “There’s just something else I’m in the mood for.” 

Craig pursed his lips, instantly enticed by his husbands suggestion. He slouched further into the booth so that their contact would increase. “What might that be?” 

“I think you know,” Tweek smirked, gently grazing his upper thigh with the side of his knees. He wanted to reach under the table and squeeze them, but that would definitely have been to obvious. “Tastes way better than cake.” 

Craig practically choked at the suggestion, “I’ll ask for the check.” 

7.7

“Craig, dude, holy shit,” Clyde slurred, clumsily surging forward in the armchair. He his fifth beer in one hand and his cell phone open in the other, blasting nostalgic songs for the past half hour. “This is the best one, we used to rock out to this shit on that songy singing game, y’know what I’m talkin’ about?” 

Craig scrunched his eyebrows at the man from the other side of the room. He was nursing a wine cooler, enjoying the company of his closest friends before the end on his and Tweek’s staycation. Token, Jimmy, and Clyde had come to their apartment for alcohol, pizza, and apparently to listen to songs they all used to love growing up (or hated at the time and loved then, or loved at the the time and hated then). “Rock Band?” he guessed. 

“I dunno, man,” Clyde laughed, then tapped ‘play’. The familiar, punchy guitar riff and drums beat of a Paramore song sounded through the speaker of his cell phone. With a smirk, the brunette stood, set down his beer and reached a dramatic arm out to Craig, singing along to the first line, “ _No, sir, well I don’t wanna be the blame anymore—_ “

_ “It’s your turn! So take a seat, we’re settling the final score,”  _

Token, Jimmy, and Tweek burst into laughter as the two friends sang in unison, Clyde playing air guitar and Craig held an imaginary microphone, _“And why do we like to hurt so much?!”_

Token turned to Tweek, who hand his hands over his face to hide the combination of horror and humor that was evident. He was laughing himself, “Sometimes I forget how alike these idiots are. Then Craig gets drunk.” 

Tweek lowered his hands just to simper at Token, “I hate that I agreed to spend my life with both of them.”

“No you d-d-don’t,” Jimmy chuckled, taking a swig of his own beer. 

_ “That’s what you get when you let your heart win, woah! That’s what you get when you let your heart win, woah!”  _

Craig kept going when Clyde took a break to laughed loudly and grasp at his friend’s forearms. Craig grabbed the shorter man’s hands as he sang, quite off key, _“I drowned out all my sense with the sound of it’s beating!”_

The pair danced, punched the air, and sang well beyond loud enough to antagonize the neighbors above them. When they took a rest after the song had ended, Craig plopped beside his husband and rested his hand on his shoulder. Tweek snorted at the behavior and peered at him out of the corner of his eye, “You’re not gonna throw up on me are you?” 

Craig perked his head to address him, “What do you mean?” 

“Um, you’re wasted?” Tweek retorted, a good-natured laugh following the statement. 

Craig shook his head, grinning, “No, I’m okay. I mean, I’m a little tipsy, but not in any danger of vomiting.” 

Quite surprised at the coherent confession, the blond smiled widely at the willingness Craig’s sober willingness to behave goofily with his best friend. His chest clenched with joy and nostalgia. 

“Bro, _Craig_!” Clyde shouted again, repeating the process of jumping upright and playing a tune. This one started much quicker, and Clyde’s lopsided smile returned as he sang, “ _I’m an alligator!_ ” 

_ “I’mma momma, poppa, comin’ for you!” _

_ “I’m a space invader!”  _

Craig stood, _“I’ll be a rockin’, rollin’ bitch for you!”_

Tweek giggled and smiled, watching his husband sing and dance around their apartment like an idiot to “Moonage Daydream”. He suddenly felt very stupid for fretting about no longer being financially secure or not finding a good new path anymore all week—clearly Craig was happy with his decision, and that was all that mattered. 

7.8 

Normally, Craig would do something if Tweek asked for it. Clyde often referred fo him as a “Tweek Simp”, which was essentially nonsense, but he supposed it was technically true. He wanted nothing more than to make Tweek happy and to please and impress him, but there came a time when a line had to be drawn. 

“I am not wearing that.” 

“Oh, come on, it’s funny!” Tweek tried to reason, grasping the plastic hanger that a large, gaudy Christmas sweater was resting on. 

Through his work, Craig received free photo sessions. He was never keen on using them (it was super awkward for his coworkers to pose him and his partner), but Tweek was always dead set on updating pictures if them. Once he provided the ridiculous (albeit fair) reasoning that it is an “affront to the LGBT community who fought for our right to be in a relationship publicly to not take full advantage of any opportunity to be proudly, boldly homosexual”. The sweater was a little too homosexual, though. 

“It lights up,” Craig retorted, arms crossed over his chest. “Do I look like the kind of guy who wears something that lights up?” 

Tweek shrugged, “If you’re asking me if you look like a twink, the answer is yes.” 

Craig scoffed and turned toward their closest. “I’m wearing my Darth Vader sweater.” 

“Ugh, c’mon, Craig! It would be so funny! I’m wearing one, too!” 

“No, you are going to return two of them,”

After he threw on his Star Wars themed ugly sweater he scrutinized the state of his pouting husband, slumped against the mattress. Had he not been so adorable, Craig would have been genuinely annoyed. He pecked him on the lips on his way towards the door. “You’ll just have to go be gay with someone else.” 

Tweek huffed, disappointed but not shocked that Craig would refuse the gimmick. Though he would not admit it, he was pleased with the Christmas sweater Craig chose and set out to find one similar. 

7.9 

It was the second night that Tweek had been away at work, and Craig was so bored he tasked himself with tidying up their bedroom. 

Tweek had enjoyed the first couple of days at his new place of employment. His status as a general manager and his knowledge of making pastries landed him a job in the Whole Foods bakery, which turned out to be the perfect combination of familiar and utterly different from Tweek Bro’s. The pay was nearly the same as well. It was nice for his husband to come home wearing a smile as opposed to instantly ranting about something his parents did to intervene with the business that was supposed to be Tweek’s. 

After collecting multiple empty cups with neglected water or mugs half-full of coffee, Craig lingered at the desk when he noticed a disorganized stack of papers. There were sketches and scrawling in Tweek’s chicken scratch handwriting. He lifted a loose piece of notebook paper that read “Haikus” in the top margins. Craig grinned to himself—apparently finding that book did effectively reignite Tweek’s prior passion for poetry. He reach the word hungrily, always in deep admiration of Tweek’s literary skills: 

_ 1. _

_ truth is a gray moon  _

_ though hidden by the gold sun _

_ night shows its shadows _

_2._

_your citrus kisses_

_your dairy sweet chocolate love_

_your candy striped tongue_

_3._

_the wave of your lips_

_a crinkled pink ocean curse_

_too much is just right_

Though he was unsure what the true meaning was, it seemed complimentary of himself. He grinned and set down the paper, then scrutinized the one that fell beneath it. There was a poem titled “above all else” and a doodle at the bottom of the page of a heart with the letters ‘T’ and ‘C’ in it. Craig scanned his eyes along the words above: 

_you and i, we’re magic._

_we’re the sun’s rays squeezing_

_through looming grey clouds._

_we’re the smooth scratch of a_

_record, that soothing screech._

_we’re the first fresh bite of a_

_strawberry, juicy and dripping._

_we’re the sun and the moon,_

_taking turns shining._

_we’re a busted red clock,_

_timeless._

_we’re two long branches,_

_entwined til the end._

_above all else, we’re two humans_

_with hearts out and full_. 

Feeling his chest tighten at the sweetness of Tweek’s words, he searched for more, feeling closer to his husband with each new poem. He wished the creative, sweet, beautiful soul were there for Craig to admire in person and gush to. Instead he busied himself with reading and rereading the words that were written about himself, feeling very unworthy and very lucky. 


End file.
